


Anonymous

by laurenjauregui



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Slow Burn, finn and jake and everyone are in this just on the side
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 10:46:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 61,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5245415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurenjauregui/pseuds/laurenjauregui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When her uncle announces that she has to move to a different continent, Bonnie isn't happy at all. She doesn't like the new house, or the town, or the school. The only thing that makes it slightly better is a person that she doesn't even know the name of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> updates on this will be kind of scarce at first but they'll pick up. i promise. :)

The sky was overcast and stormy, rain bouncing off the bonnet of the car that was crawling up the congested road. A small crowd of young people in raincoats much too bright for the weather sprinted past the little green car Bonnibel was in, probably trying to get out of the rain as quickly as they could. Bonnie didn't blame them.

Bonnie's temple was rested against the chilled window on the passenger side of the car, her hands fiddling with the rough strap of the pink backpack containing her most important personal belongings. The car ran over a bump in the road and she felt a small thud of pain in the side of her head; that'd leave a bruise.

There was a small clear spot left in the condensation on the cold window glass as Bonnie lifted her head up. She stretched – the pink bag strap falling from her hand, pushing herself up in her car seat; a motion made harder by the tight black seatbelt over her torso. "Are we nearly there?"

Peter, her uncle – a diminutive man with fiery red hair dusted with grey – gripped the steering wheel tighter, as though it would make the car skip all of the road's congestion and get them to their destination immediately. If only that was possible. "Nearly. We have to take the next right and then it'll be about half an hour when we get there."

Bonnie let out an irritated groan and back towards the window – she was  _certain_  she'd been staring at the same tree for around half an hour, and it was becoming rather tedious. "Why can't people just  _hurry up_? I'm so bored."

Peter let out a warm laugh and sent Bonnibel the same excited smile he'd been flashing all week – probably an attempt at cheering her up. He knew she wasn't happy about this move. "It shouldn't take too long. I can see the exit from here. We'll be at the new house before you know it."

Bonnie tried not to be too bitter about the move. She couldn't blame him for taking a promotion that paid more, but  _of course_  the job had to be situated on the other side of the ocean. "Okay. Wake me up when we get there."

Bonnie rested her head back against the cool, clouded up window. Why it was raining so heavily, Bonnie didn't know, but she wasn't accustomed to American weather. Maybe this was a freak storm or something. Wasn't it supposed to be hot all the time here? Or was that just on television?

Another thing she wasn't used to was the time zone. She was five hours behind her body clock, and had been half asleep for most of the arduous drive from the airport. It was 8PM, but to her it was midnight – usually she'd be in bed in her home in England, probably trying to stay up a little longer to finish a chapter in her book.

She found the strap of her pink backpack, nervously fiddling with it again. This was all so  _weird_. It wasn't like she hadn't moved before, but to another country? It felt wrong. Like she was only supposed to be here for a few weeks for a holiday. Not like she was meant to live here. Everything looked so alien, like she'd crash-landed on a different planet. How was she supposed to fit in here?

Bonnie twisted to the right in an attempt to get herself comfortable in the car; she'd never been able to sleep well in them. Sitting upright and leaning against the window gave her a dull ache in her back, and as the car went over little bumps and trembled with the purr of the engine she tended to be pulled away from that hazy near-sleep and knocked back into reality. Peter didn't need to wake her up when the car came to a stop and the engine cut out; Bonnie jolted up and looked out of the window. "Are we here?"

Peter nodded, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder at the reasonably sized house they were parked in front of. "Yes."

Bonnie felt her chest ease with a sigh of relief; she could  _finally_  go to bed. "Good."

"We've got a lot of unpacking to do." Peter ruined her evening as he pointed this out while quickly pulling his raincoat on – the rain had reduced to a lazy drizzle, but they'd be in and out of the house a lot to get their stuff from the moving van.

Again, Bonnie groaned, rubbing her tired blue eyes with the back of her hand. "Seriously? I'm so tired."

Peter laughed as his niece pulled the hood of her purple raincoat over her strawberry blonde hair and pushed open the car door, "I'm not saying we have to unpack everything. We just need to bring the things in the moving van inside and get our beds set up."

"Isn't that the drivers' job?" Bonnie asked, looking towards the two burly men in the front seat of the moving van that had followed them with their belongings since the airport.

Peter sent Bonnie a scornful look and she bristled. " _Bonnibel_. I feel like we should help out as well. It's only fair."

Bonnie let out a long huff as she tightened the drawstrings on her purple coat to shield her from the cold pinpricks of the drizzle. She stifled a yawn and followed Peter to the moving van; her eyelids felt heavy and she kept having to muffle yawns every few minutes.

It had been a long, arduous day. She'd been awake since 8AM UK time for the drive to the airport – they'd had to go all the way from York to Heathrow since that was the only place they could get a direct flight – and the flight itself was five hours, plus the long drive to the new house. All Bonnie wanted to do was sleep, and if she didn't get her bed set up in the next two minutes, nothing would stop her from curling up in a ball on the floor. That's how desperate she was.

"Bonnibel, could you get this box for me?"

Before she could respond, a big cardboard box was thrust into her hands and she quickly blinked in a weak attempt at waking herself up, probably looking quite dazed and disoriented. Actually, that was how she felt. She kept her eyes on Peter as he walked towards the house and unlocked the door – a smaller box balanced on one arm – and she dumped the box on the ground before she could fall asleep walking and broke whatever was tucked inside of it.

Robotically, Bonnibel helped Peter bring in multiple boxes, not even bothering to look around her new house – she'd do that tomorrow when she wasn't falling asleep walking and could actually pay attention to detail. She did glance around the room for a few moments to take things in – plain, cream coloured walls, boxes everywhere. So many boxes. Bonnie had nearly tripped over at least three when bringing things in.

She didn't hesitate when the men from the moving van brought in the couch - she collapsed on it without a second thought, the world around her drowned out by calm embrace of sleep.

* * *

Bonnibel felt a pair of hands on her shoulders and she jolted awake, her eyes searching in the darkness for something to help her work out her location. She made out the outline of Peter in front of her and her face fell into a frown, "What? Where am I? Peter?"

He laughed at her, helping her up into a sitting position. "In the new house. We've got your bed all sorted. Come on."

She let him virtually carry her up the stairs and into a fairly large bedroom that seemed to be located in the loft - she hadn't really been paying that much attention. It was bare – the only thing in it was a bed, a working bathroom and boxes.  _Those damn boxes_  was one of the only coherent thoughts that ran through Bonnie's mind when one of the sides of one scraped against her leg as Peter helped her across to the bed.

Not even bothering to get changed, Bonnibel slid under the sheets of her bed, her head falling against the soft pillow.

In an attempt to comfort her, Peter squeezed her shoulder, "Goodnight, Bonnibel. I'll see you in the morning."

She mumbled a  _goodnight_  into the darkness and rolled over onto her side, closing her eyes in an effort to get back to sleep. Even though she was so sleepy she was having trouble thinking about anything other than how weird this all was, she could appreciate the familiarity her bed gave her.

At least it made her feel like she was home.

(Sort of.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bonnie explores her new surroundings.

Bonnibel pushed herself up onto her elbows, the bright sunlight through her window producing an odd glare that made her eyesight blurry. She squinted, her hand shooting up to protect her vision, and swung her legs over her bed. Stretching, her toes curling, she yawned quietly. Jumping up, she made her way over to the window and pulled the blinds downwards.

Spinning on her heels, she finally had a chance to absorb her new surroundings now that her loft was relatively furnished. The room was sizeable, but it probably looked bigger than it was due to how bare it still was. Her desk was in a quiet corner by the window, so she'd have as much natural light as possible while studying on a night – which she'd be doing a lot while catching up with her work when she started at school on Monday. Cream coloured walls were mostly bare, although she had put one poster up by her double bed of the periodic table; it was nice to keep revision materials in constant view, so she'd learned from Peter once she'd started living with him.

It was simple – that was how Bonnie liked things – and most importantly, tidy and neat. She'd always liked things orderly and clean, and it was, mostly. There were still three or four boxes remaining; she'd have to unpack those today. Ugh.

Avoiding the inevitability of having to continue unpacking, however little she had left to do, Bonnie stretched again and tiptoed around the boxes, making her way downstairs. She ran her fingers through her messy strawberry blonde hair and flashed a smile at Peter when she arrived in the sitting room.

"Morning," She announced her presence, "What's for breakfast?"

"I think you mean  _lunch_. It's just about twelve," Peter laughed, "We don't have much in. I was going to go out shopping. Would you like to come with me?"

"Yeah, just let me get showered and dressed," Bonnie replied, "I really need to buy some things for school next week. I need to be as best prepared as possible since I'm starting in the middle of the term."

"That's a  _semester_  here, apparently." Peter smiled warmly, correcting her yet again. Apparently he was on a roll this morning. "You'll be fine once you get settled in. You were fine when you moved in with me and started at a different school."

"It's just going to be a little weird," Bonnie sat down on the sofa, fingers kneading her bare kneecaps in nervous habit, "The school system is going to work differently, I won't have Bubba to hang out with, the work might be on a different level. I don't know what to expect. When I moved in with you, I knew the school system and how things worked. It's not the same."

Peter shrugged, "Well, still. You'll get used to it after we've been here for a while."

"Will we ever go back to England? Is it possible for you to get a promotion that's back there?" Bonnie asked, "I miss York."

"I don't think so, Bonnibel." Peter smiled again, but this time it had a sad twinge to it, just around the edges. It was barely noticeable. If Bonnie didn't know him as well as she did, she probably wouldn't have picked up on it. "Make the best of it. At least episodes of that show you like air earlier here. You don't have to stream them online."

Bonnie laughed for the first time since they left their old house. "Yeah. That's a good point. All new Orphan Black straight away sounds amazing."

"Told you that there's always a plus." He beamed again; Peter had always been an optimist, looking for a silver lining in everything. Bonnie found it immensely comforting; it was probably the reason why he was her main confidant. "You can always video call Bubba, too."

"Yeah. I'm still going to miss him." Sighing wistfully, Bonnie cast a glance over at her phone. Naturally, it wasn't making a sound – the one friend she'd left back at home couldn't text internationally, which was upsetting. Of course, she made a point to create a Skype account once the Wi-Fi was up and running.

Sensing that Bonnie was starting to feel down again, Peter smiled and jabbed his pointer finger towards the door she'd entered through. "Well, go on. Get ready so we can head off to town."

* * *

Bonnibel's hand shot up in front of her eyes, making the intense sunlight distorted and choppy. She knew she should've brought her sunglasses with her when she and Peter left the house that morning, but naturally with it being November, she assumed she was just being silly. Not that she'd be able to find her sunglasses, anyway; the house was rather cluttered, but aside from that, it had actually started to look quite nice – it would never be like her house back in England, but it had grown on her. Peter had said she could do anything she wanted to her room, which included painting. She was considering switching out the boring cream walls for pink ones.

Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her pink winter coat, she hunched her shoulders in a failing effort at keeping herself warm. The wind was harsh, biting, nipping at any exposed skin and left it feeling raw. She hadn't expected this kind of cold at all. It was weird, needing sunglasses and a winter coat on the same day. That never happened in England – usually only the coat was necessary. It was mostly just grey there.

Bonnibel quickly ducked under an open door frame and into another store, mostly just for the purpose of indoor heating. She blinked a few times to adjust to the darker lighting, everything outlined in a weird green when she finally looked around, thanks to the freak sunlight outside. It seemed to be some sort of music store – each instrument had a designated section around the shop; one wall was decorated with an array of guitars in different shapes, sizes, colours. There was a drum kit set up near the back of the store and the rest of the percussion section surrounded it, different types of drums that Bonnie couldn't differentiate between. She was rather enamoured by the black grand piano stood proudly in the centre of the room; she used to play as a child. Sometimes she considered taking it up again, usually deciding against it. She had her reasons.

"Are you new around here?"

The voice startled her – it was light and feminine, and for a moment she was taken aback by the casual American accent, as if she'd forgotten where she was. She spun on her heels and stared in the direction of the voice; it was a girl of around her age – maybe a little older – stood behind the counter wearing a black polo shirt with the store's logo embroidered on it. A red nametag was pinned on it, slightly angled towards the left, but Bonnie had to step a little closer to read it without her glasses. "Um…yeah, I am."

"Oh, you're from England." The girl immediately picked up on Bonnibel's soft accent. Then, she followed Bonnie's gaze and looked down at her nametag, as if she'd forgotten it was there, "Yeah, I'm Keila. It's nice to meet you. Welcome to Glassrock."

Bonnie stepped a little closer to Keila and smiled, "I'm Bonnibel."

The warmth of Keila's smile spread all the way across her face, into the kind hazel eyes that matched her coffee coloured skin. "Are you starting down at the high school?"

Slowly, Bonnibel nodded. Did Keila go there too? "Yes. What year are you in?"

"Year?" Keila frowned, before some sort of realisation dawned on her and her face brightened again. "Oh, you mean grade! I'm in eleventh. My junior year."

"I think I'm in the year below you." Bonnie replied. Or so she thought – she hadn't really grasped the American school system yet. She figured she'd get the hang of it soon, maybe once she started.

"I'll show you around on your first day, if you want." Keila offered. "You'll probably see me around."

Bonnie blinked at her in surprise. She really hadn't been expecting that. "Really? I would appreciate that a lot. Thank you."

"Don't worry about it." Keila's smile seemed almost plastered onto her face – it had barely moved since the start of their conversation. Probably her way of seeming accommodating and approachable. Either way, Bonnibel appreciated it. "I'll see you then."

Bonnibel shifted towards the exit of the store then sending Keila one last smile as she pushed the door open, "Bye."

She squinted almost automatically – idiotically, she'd forgotten about how bright the sun was when she was talking to Keila – and again, regretting her decision to not bring her sunglasses with her. She decided on the spot that her sunglasses wouldn't leave her bag ever again.

Bonnibel ducked into a little shadowy area and slid her phone out of her pocket, her hand curving around the top to make the screen brighter. She had one text – from Peter, no doubt. Bonnie didn't get many texts.

_**Peter (2:34PM): Don't forget to buy school supplies today while you're exploring. I'm heading home in around an hour. Be home by five for tea.** _

Bonnie didn't bother responding; he knew that she'd listen to him. Instead, she slipped her phone out of her pocket and pulled some money from her purse. She frowned at the bills – they were all the same size and colour. Money at home was a lot less confusing. She missed the blissful ignorance of not actually having to look at the bill much before handing it over – she merely glanced at the colour to check if it was a five or a ten.

Bonnibel found a ten dollar bill and put the two fives that Peter had given her back into her purse. That  _should_  cover the cost of buying a notebook and some stationary, Bonnie hoped.

She wandered aimlessly around town, hoping that it would somehow help her picture it in her mind better. She had to glance left and right every few seconds on her hunt for a shop to buy stationary from, eventually settling on the biggest shop on the road that read  _Glassrock_ _General Stores_.

The automatic doors opened for her and she was hit with a cool blast of air that really wasn't that helpful when it was  _November_  as she walked into the shop. She added that on both the list of pros and cons about the move –  _everywhere has air conditioning_. It'd probably be more of a pro in summer. As of this moment, the list of cons was longer than the pros. Maybe that would change after she'd gotten settled. A week and a half wasn't long enough to judge a place.

Sure enough, there was a big sign that red  _stationary_ , so Bonnie made her way over and picked up two notepads and a packet of pens. She had other basic stationary at home, but she always ran out of pens. She didn't even know where they went, most of the time. She just assumed that Peter had stolen them for work or something of that nature.

Once she'd paid for her items and left the store, she called Peter to pick her up. She'd done enough exploring for the day – her feet hurt and she was still kind of jetlagged.

(She really needed to get that under control before she started school.)

"Could you come and meet me?" She asked him as she checked her watch, "I'm at the main shop. At least I think it's the main shop."

He laughed down the phone, " _Sure, I'm on my way now_." After a short pause, he spoke again, " _According to my phone I'll be ten minutes without traffic_."

Bonnibel smiled, "Okay, thank you. I'll see you soon."

" _Bye."_  The phone went dead and Bonnibel slid it back into her pocket.

She leaned against a small brick wall that went to about halfway up her back. If she was a little taller, she could probably jump up and sit on it, but her family had always been short. Bonnie was only 5'3 and Peter wasn't much bigger.

Her expression brightened when she saw his little green car coming down the road towards her, and she stepped into sight so he wouldn't drive past. He pulled up in front of her and she quickly jumped into the passenger side, smiling at him. "Thank you for coming."

"It was no problem. I was nearby, stocking up on groceries." He waved her off, "Did you get your school stuff?"

"Yeah." Bonnie bobbed her head in confirmation, holding up the plastic bag asproof.

As it fell back into her lap, Peter asked, "How do you like the town?"

Bonnie shrugged. It was average. Mediocre. Commonplace. It hadn't made an impression on her, but she supposed it may grow on her if she gave it a few months. Even if she didn't like it, she was going home for university. She could handle a few years here; she usually kept to herself and did what she needed to do.

Not wanting to disappoint Peter, she smiled, "It's nice."

Apparently that was the answer he wanted, as he beamed at her before quickly returning his gaze to the road. She always knew what the right thing to say was, especially when it came to him.

Little white lies didn't matter, did they?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bonnie starts school.

The school was smaller than Bonnie had expected. Much smaller. Actually, Bonnibel had expected one of those big, crowded schools that she'd seen on television when she was younger. She hadn't at  _all_  expected a school similar to her old one – it was compact and quiet, although Bonnie suspected the latter was because of how early she was.

(She'd wanted to make a good impression on her first day.)

Peter's car stilled as he switched the engine off, and Bonnie was out of the car in seconds. She smoothed out the sweater she'd settled on wearing and took in a deep breath, spinning on her heels to face Peter, "Are you coming with me to the office?"

"Yes. Once you've picked up your timetable I'll head off back to the house." Peter patted her on the shoulder in a reassuring manner. It did nothing to stop her from creating endless horrible scenarios about what might happen when she met her peers. She was far too nervous for her own good.

Trying to focus on something else, Bonnie bobbed her head in acknowledgement and followed him towards the main building of the school – a double storey, rather drab looking bricked building that didn't make her feel much better about her first day. In fact, it kind of made her feel worse. Bright colours were much better for relaxation.

Thankfully, as she neared the glass doors, she noted that the inside of the building seemed a lot friendlier, decorated with lively colours; probably to have a positive effect on students. Usually it'd work on her, but she still had that weird jittering in her stomach that most likely wouldn't go away for the rest of the day.

The lady behind the desk, who had busied herself with shuffling through papers, glanced up when they pushed the doors open and sent them both a bright smile, although it was mainly directed at Bonnibel. "Hello, can I help you?"

Peter smiled back, equally as cheerful. "Yes," Pressing a hand on the small of Bonnie's back, he pushed her forwards, subtly enough so the lady would think she'd walked forward of her own accord. "She's a new student today."

The woman turned to Bonnibel after adjusting her computer screen, "Can I get your name, please?"

Bonnie nodded, promptly replying, "Bonnibel Butler."

The woman tapped at her computer keyboard, and Peter reassuringly squeezed Bonnie's arm just below the elbow. Bonnie assumed she looked tense. In all honesty, she felt tense. She'd never been very good at interacting with other people of her age group – back at home she'd only left one friend behind and it'd taken her a while to befriend him in the first place. Bonnie was just…into different things. She'd rather conduct a science experiment than go shopping. Assumedly, that was a turn off.

"Okay, everything seems to be in order," The woman flashed that bright smile again, holding out two sheets of crisp white paper, "I have your class schedule here, along with a map of the school."

Bonnie reached for the papers and scanned them over, realising that the school was bigger than she'd originally thought as she looked over the map. It was a good thing that Bonnibel was alright at orienteering, even though she knew she'd end up lost at least once today. New places could be confusing. She'd just have to make sure she gave herself enough time to navigate from one place to the other; walking into class late as the new girl would attract a few stares.

Bonnie didn't look up from the paper, "Thank you," She then twisted her head to the right and smiled at Peter, "I think I'll be okay from here."

He nodded, "Alright," Enveloping her in a hug, he continued, "Have fun. I'll pick you up at half past three in the car park."

"Okay. Bye, Peter." She called after him as he made his way back outside.

Then, she glanced back at the map in her hands, walking towards the doors that hid the main office away from the rest of the school. She traced her finger across the paper and then turned to her schedule to find the room for her first class of the day. Even though it didn't start until nine, Bonnie figured she might as well get there early to talk to the teacher.

Her smile was almost as bright as the receptionist's when she saw that her first lesson was biology. At least that was an upside to the day; she had a class that actually interested her.

She made a mental note of the room number and turned back to her map, spreading it out fully. Apparently the class was in the B block, which was reserved for the sciences and mathematics, in room 7. According to her map, Bonnibel was in the A block right now, so all she had to do was cross over the quad and go into the next building over. It seemed easy enough, and if she went into a certain door, she would be just outside the classroom.

Bonnie pushed open another door and went outside, squinting in the sunlight. She walked past a few empty picnic benches on her way but didn't stop to look around; she'd have time to do that when she had her lunch break. No doubt, she'd have plenty of solitude then.

She entered the other building through the door that was marked on her map, waiting for her eyesight to adjust before she looked around. She could see room 7 from where she was standing, just down a corridor that was decorated with students' classwork on – from what Bonnibel could see – photosynthesis. She didn't really pay much attention as she walked over to the classroom, pushing the cool handle down and stepping inside the room.

It was empty. The teacher's chair was vacant but their briefcase was on the desk and some papers were littered around. For a moment, Bonnie wondered if any of them would be about her, but she shrugged it off as she walked to a desk that was positioned at the front of the room – her favourite spot – shrugging her pink backpack off and placing it on the floor underneath it.

She drummed her fingers on the desk as she waited for the teacher to make an appearance, glancing around the classroom at the little snippets of students' biology work on the walls. The whiteboard at the front of the room was still dirty from the last lesson of the previous week, the date at the top reading  _November 27_ _th_   _2015_ , and there was a distorted image of a game of hangman. Apparently that hadn't been a very productive lesson.

Bonnie nearly jumped out of her skin when the door burst open and a girl looked around the room. She laid eyes on Bonnibel and brushed her wild mane of inky black hair – some of it was pulled back in a haphazard ponytail which resembled a thistle – out of her face, but spared her no more than a passing frown before exiting the same way she'd come in; loudly. She slammed the classroom door on the way out, and Bonnibel cringed at the harsh bang it made.

 _Well, she definitely wasn't the teacher_ , Bonnibel thought to herself as she brought her watch up to glance at the time. It was 8:37, so she was still very early; she assumed that the teacher would show up soon to set up for the lesson.

She was waiting in silence for a few more minutes when the door opened and a well-dressed man walked in, smoothing down his tie as he made his way over to the desk. He glanced over at her, stopping in his tracks and putting on a rigid smile. Bonnie could tell that he didn't do that much. "Hello there. Are you the new student?"

"Yes, I am." Bonnie replied, "Bonnibel Butler. I just moved here from England."

He blinked at her, "Oh. I'm Mr Abadeer. I'll be your science teacher for the next year."

"It's nice to meet you," She paused then, unsure of what to say next, before she tapped on her desk with her knuckles, "Is this seat taken?"

"Students are welcome to pick their own seats on the first day of class, but that will become your assigned seat for the remainder of the school year." He explained, "I'm surprised you chose to sit there. Eleventh graders usually start from the back and the unlucky late people have to sit at the front. Luckily for you, most of the class is concentrated towards the back of the room."

 _So she was in the eleventh grade_. Bonnie kept that mental note at the front of her mind. "I've always liked a front row seat, especially in science class."

He seemed impressed by her. Although Bonnie's initial impression was that he was rather intimidating, she decided she liked him; anyone who appreciated science was automatically great in Bonnie's mind. All he had to do now for Bonnie's full stamp of approval was to be a good teacher. "Well, you and my daughter would disagree on that. No matter what I try, she's always uninterested in useful subjects and wastes her time upstairs playing that guitar of hers."

She didn't really know how to respond to that. "Oh." She chewed on her lip in thought before adding, "Science is my favourite subject. I got an A* in my GCSE back at home."

In fact, Bonnie hadn't got less than an A in all of her GCSEs. If she hadn't moved, she would've been continuing her education at Sixth Form with Bubba this year.

(That's where she wished she was.)

"Well done with that," He congratulated her. He opened his mouth to continue but the harsh, loud ring of the school bell cut him off, and he spun on his heels to face the board.

Bonnie stared down at her desk as she saw the door open, and judging by what she could hear, a group of her new schoolmates walked in, and – as predicted – made their way to the back of the classroom. Using her peripheral vision, Bonnibel noticed that the raven haired girl who came in earlier was there. Was she Mr Abadeer's daughter?

She heard the chair at the desk next to her scrape against the floor, and she looked around to see a blonde girl pulling her notebook out of her bag. Bonnie looked around the room – there were still a lot of empty desks around the room. Why had the girl sat right next to her? Maybe she was just trying to be welcoming, unless that was her assigned seat. Bonnie couldn't tell.

Bonnie watched out of the corner of her eye as the girl pulled a pen out of a rainbow pencil case and set it down on the desk, flicking open the front cover of her notepad. Bonnie's gaze flicked back to her lap when she saw the girl look over to her. "Hi!"

Bonnie frowned. Was she talking to her? "Um…hello."

"Oh wow, you're British." Bonnie heard the girl murmur, before she came back with, "I'm Lady. Lady Rayner. It's nice to meet you." She stuck out a perfectly manicured hand, nails painted in a rainbow fashion to match the ring on her middle finger.

"I'm Bonnibel Butler." Bonnie smiled and shook the girl's hand, "It's nice to meet you too."

"How long ago did you move here?" Lady asked her. She seemed genuinely curious, her bright smile making her seem very welcoming. That was relaxing.

"Um," Bonnie paused in thought, "We arrived about two weeks ago. A week and a half went on fully unpacking and decorating, and then I had a few days last week to explore and buy school supplies. And work on fixing my jet-lag."

"You'll settle in soon," Lady assured her, "My parents lived in Korea when they had me and we moved here when I was eight, so I know what it's like to move to a different country."

Bonnie had to admit, that had made her feel a little more comfortable. Having someone around who knew what it was like might make her transition into the new surroundings easier. "Really? That's reassuring."

"Alright, class!" Bonnie jumped in surprise and turned away from Lady as Mr Abadeer spoke, addressing the entire class this time, "This lesson we're going to be looking at something fairly simple; respiration."

* * *

"You can come and meet my friends, if you want." Lady offered as she packed up her things, "It's pretty likely that one of us will end up in your next class so we can direct you there. Plus, it might be cool for you to have some people to hang with."

Bonnie blinked in disbelief. "Uh, yeah, that'd be nice. I really appreciate that."

Lady smiled at her, "Don't worry about it. I'll take you to where we sit."

Bonnibel felt Lady's warm fingers circle around her wrist, and she was lightly tugged out of the building and into the bright sunlight. Momentarily, she wished she had brought her sunglasses, and made a mental note – what was that, the fifth today? – to put them in her backpack when she had the chance.

She would've looked around the school as Lady walked her to wherever their destination actually was, but the sun made her eyes hurt after looking around for too long. She was thankful for the shade when Lady let go of her wrist and sat her down on the grass underneath the bleachers on the football field.

Bonnie blinked to adjust her sight, looking around the area they were in. A question almost fell from Bonnie's tongue, but Lady seemed to sense what she was about to ask. "My friends should be here in a few minutes."

Bonnibel nodded in acknowledgement, trying not to think about how nervous she was to meet Lady's friends. What if they didn't like her, or told Lady they didn't want her hanging around near them? Bonnie knew she wasn't exactly the best at socialising, but she didn't want to push them away through her own awkwardness.

 _Screw it,_ Bonnie thought,  _I'm going to try my best and be myself_.

It was a good thing that she didn't have any time to decide anything else, as she saw three shadows approaching them and she quickly plastered on a smile as she leaned against a cool metal beam, trying to ignore the fact that her heart was beating through her chest and she felt like she was about to puke.

"Dude, you and I need to marathon all of the Marvel movies and I'll  _prove_  to you that Captain America is better than Iron Man." A blond boy in a white beanie with bear ears said to an intimidating boy who looked like the older, more muscular version of himself, "I swear to god, I'll change your mind."

"You've been trying to change my mind ever since  _Captain America: Civil War_  was announced," The older boy rolled his eyes at his younger, much more excitable counterpart, "and that was months ago, and I'm  _still_  team Iron Man." After a short pause, he added, "Marshall, back me up."

The bigger boy moved to the left slightly, revealing a tall boy who was – from what Bonnie guessed – just over the six foot mark, with intentionally messy black hair and bright green eyes, "I don't really care. I prefer DC, but Iron Man is cooler. More sarcastic. That's probably why my sister likes him."

The smaller blond scowled, muttering, "Captain America is my favourite Avenger."

Out of her peripheral vision, Bonnie saw Lady rolling her eyes, "Can you guys shut up for a minute and greet our new friend?"

The word  _friend_  was enough to startle the smile right off Bonnie's face, and she spun around to Lady with a confused expression that she hoped wouldn't make her revoke that statement.

"New friend?" The tallest boy was the one to speak up first – Marshall, Bonnie thought she'd heard someone call him. His gaze flicked from Lady onto her, and his mouth formed a sort of lopsided smirk that Bonnie thought usually made girls swoon. It had little effect on her. "Hi. I'm Marshall. This is Jake," he nodded over to the big muscular boy, who nodded and smiled in greeting, "and Finn."

Finn's cheeks flushed a bright pink when he looked at her, and he put on an enthusiastic smile. "Hey. Are you in the same grade as these guys?"

"I think so. I'm not too clear on the American school system just yet." Bonnie said, "I'm Bonnibel, by the way."

Jake sat down on the grass next to Lady, and Bonnibel picked up on how he linked his hand with hers. From that, she thought it was safe to assume that they were a couple. "It's pretty cool to meet you. Our other friends should be here soon but I know that Fionna and Elle were held up in their English class."

Finn sat down on Bonnie's left, "So Bonnibel…you're from England?"

"Yes," Bonnie bobbed her head in confirmation, "I used to live on the outskirts of London but when I was told I was moving here I was living in York which is in the north."

Bonnie could  _feel_  the 'why' on the tip of his tongue, and her chest tightened as she readied herself for the oncoming attack of questions about her, her fingers kneading the material of her sweater in an effort to distract herself.

"Bonnibel?"

At the sound of Jake's gruff voice, Bonnie visibly relaxed and she turned around, flashing him a big smile, "Yes, Jake?"

He smiled at her, which made him look a lot less intimidating. He seemed softer, less like a professional wrestler and more like Santa Claus. "Are you liking the school so far?"

Lady rolled her eyes, "She's barely been here for two hours."

Ignoring Lady's truthful comment, Bonnie just shrugged, "My biology class this morning was interesting, and I really liked the teacher."

"Did you have my Dad?" Marshall – who was still standing up in front of them – questioned.

"That depends," Bonnie responded, "Is your dad Mr Abadeer?"

"That's him." Marshall bobbed his head up and down in confirmation, leaning against a metal beam, "He's kind of intense but a lot of people like him."

Bonnie nodded, frowning when she recalled what Mr Abadeer had said to her when they were talking in the classroom earlier, "He said he had a daughter, not a son."

Marshall laughed, "Yeah, I have a twin sister. She's not friends with these guys, though." Before she could ask any more questions, he pushed himself off of the metal beam and jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, "I'm going to head off and go see Guy. I'll see you guys later."

He walked away the way he'd come with Finn and Jake, and Bonnie turned around to Lady, "Why aren't you friends with his sister?"

They glanced around one another, as if they were deciding who would be the one to give Bonnie some incredibly bad news. Kind of like they were telepathically drawing straws.

Finally, Lady just shrugged, "Marceline's kind of…different. She has a reputation for violence and getting into fights. Sometimes she'll show up to school with a black eye because someone gave her what she had coming. She's kind of a…a  _beacon_  for negative drama. I've never really talked to her, though, so that could be just…rumours? Maybe."

 _Well, I won't be getting involved with her, then_ , Bonnie thought. She decided she'd follow her new acquaintances' lead and have a general avoidance policy when it came to this girl. She wanted to stay out of teenage drama. It was never good. "Oh, okay."

"Beacon for negative drama? Sounds like Elle." A blonde girl joked as she sat down next to Finn. She spared Bonnie no more than a passing glance. "Who's this?"

"Bonnibel. She just moved here from England." Finn explained, "Where's Elle, anyway? Jake said she was with you."

Bonnie leaned right and asked Lady, "Who is Elle?"

"Elizabeth." Lady clarified, "We just call her Elle as a nickname because she hates being called by her full name. She's not here yet, though. That's Fionna."

Bonnie nodded in acknowledgement as she picked at a loose thread on her pink cardigan. "Ah, okay. What time do we have to go back to class?"

"Uh…" Lady pulled her phone from her pocket and said, "11:15. We have a couple of minutes. What lesson do you have next?"

Bonnie pulled her timetable from where she'd left it folded in her cardigan pocket, "German."

"You do  _German_?" Jake's intonation indicated that he found that impressive. Bonnie allowed herself a moment of pride. "None of us do."

"I do French." Finn supplied. Bonnie assumed he was telling her because maybe the rooms were near each other. She wasn't sure, really.

"I can set off now and find the way myself," Bonnie said. She liked being independent. Maybe figuring it out on her own would make it easier for her to become familiar with the school.

She stood up and brushed her dress off, picking up her pink backpack. "Do you want me to meet you somewhere after your class?"

Bonnie blinked at Lady in surprise. That was quite unexpected. She tried not to infer anything from it, though. "Okay. Where?"

"I'll come to your classroom. I know it'll be in the languages block so I'll find my way." Lady smiled, which Bonnie gratefully returned. "I'll see you at lunch."

"Yeah, see you guys at lunch." Bonnie smiled at the group and then made her way out of the bleachers, heading in the general direction of the main building.

She was halfway across the grass when she felt a pair of hands on her shoulder and she was spun around, and for a moment she thought she was being attacked for some sort of ritual new student thing – like in horrible high school based television shows – but she felt herself relax when she saw Keila, stood with the girl who'd burst into the biology room earlier that morning.

"Hey, Bonnibel!" Keila grinned at her, "Knew I'd find you eventually. Wasn't I just saying I'd find her, Marce?"

The other girl nodded, eyeing Bonnie suspiciously. "Um, yeah. Listen, I'm going to head off. Got to get to literature on time or today or the teacher will tell my dad."

"Yeah, okay, sure," Keila's face sunk into a frown and she tilted her head to the side as though she was trying to figure her friend out. "You sure you don't want to help me show Bonnibel the way?"

"Positive." The girl answered a little  _too_  quickly for Bonnibel's liking. She tried not to take that personally. "See you at lunch?"

"Yeah." Keila confirmed, "Later, Marceline."

Bonnie froze a little bit when the girl's name was mentioned. Marshall's sister. Angry. Gets into fights. There were so many negative connotations.

She  _knew_  that Marceline had noticed her little freak-out. She had to have, if the way she looked at her as she walked off was anything to go by. It was scathing, and made her feel inferior and powerless and uncomfortable.

Bonnie shook it off as Keila turned back to her. "Anyway, sorry about her. She's just a little grumpy on a morning. Is there anywhere that you need to find?"

"I was actually trying to find my way to German," Bonnie explained. Although she had been planning on being independent, she wouldn't mind a little help. It was ten past eleven, so she only had around five minutes to look anyway. "You could help me with that, if you'd like."

Keila nodded, "Yeah, sure. I have that next too."

That was reassuring; Bonnie was happy to know that she'd have someone in the class to sit next to. Maybe even talk to when she finished her work, but that was unclear for the moment; Bonnie didn't like talking in class. Declines in productivity were never good.

"Do you have any other friends in the class?" Bonnie asked her. She wasn't sure if that was nosey. Maybe it was, but she didn't want to be ditched.

"Nah. Guy and Bongo haven't taken a language since freshman year and Marce dropped it this year for French." Keila explained. Alarm bells rang in Bonnie's head at the mention of Marceline. She wondered how close she and Keila were. "So it'll probably just be you and me. Unless you've made some friends yet."

Bonnie shrugged, "I've made a couple but they all said they didn't do it."

Keila held open a door for her and Bonnie ducked into the building, "It's cool you've made friends. I was going to offer my company if you hadn't. I just hang out with Marceline in the music room, mainly."

Alright, apparently Keila and Marceline were very close. More alarm bells, but Keila herself seemed nice and Bonnie tried not to listen to rumours. She knew that they had little reliability, especially if they were started by high school students.

She shook her head to clear it, change the subject slightly. "What instrument do you play?"

"Guitar," Keila said, "since I was eight."

"That's really cool." Bonnie commented as she followed Keila into a classroom and to the middle. They sat down at a desk of two and put their bags on the floor, and Bonnie went to keep talking, but the bell rang and she turned her attention to the front of the room.

(Yeah. Talking in class  _really_  wasn't her thing.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bonnie meets even more new friends.

The pen glided swiftly across the paper as Bonnie wrote down vital notes for her physics class. She'd found a perfect spot in the library, just by the window; it allowed her some natural light, which she appreciated. Bonnie hoped she'd be able to reserve this spot in the future.

Even though Bonnie had only been at school for a week, Mr Abadeer had given her a ton of homework for each of her classes with him, not that she minded. Bonnie quite enjoyed completing her homework assignments, particularly for science as it gave her chance to revisit certain topics that she'd already taught herself. She'd only  _just_  finished her chemistry load and had decided to move onto physics before the bell rang for lunch and Lady burst into the library to take her to the rest of her new friends.

(Were they friends? Bonnie wasn't sure a  _week_  was long enough to consider people friends. She'd stick with the term acquaintances for now; that felt a lot easier on her.)

Either way, when she was halfway through her physics assignments, she hadn't expected the seat opposite her to dip under another person's weight. She was fairly certain that there were other seats in the library – unless this was someone else's usual spot, Bonnie couldn't figure out why someone would sit directly across from her. So she settled with keeping her head down and avoiding eye contact whoever had decided to disturb her.

At least, until they spoke to her.

"Bonnibel?"

Bonnie blinked in alarm and her head shot up to look at her new company. She really hadn't been expecting conversation; she relaxed when she saw it was the taller boy that had been with Finn and Jake the other week. Marshall, at least that's what she thought he was called.

"Hello," She began, uncertain, "Can I help you with something?"

He flashed her a wide grin and shrugged. Bonnie was blown away by how much he  _didn't_  look like his father. "Not really. I just saw you and wondered if you'd like some company."

Bonnibel hummed in thought, looking back down at her notebook and jotting down an answer to the question printed on a separate worksheet. "I'm okay by myself, thank you."

When she subtly glanced up at him, he looked taken aback, and Bonnie felt a heavy sensation in the pit of her stomach. Was that guilt? Probably. For a moment, Bonnie worried that she'd messed up already and alienated herself from Marshall and possibly the rest of her new acquaintances, but the easy smile returned as quickly as it had faded.

"Oh, okay," Marshall stood up again and nodded down to the several worksheets scattered across her table, "No worries. I'll let you get back to your homework and stuff. That's for my -"

Bonnie assumed he would have asked if the work was for his dad's class, to which she probably would've responded with an affirmative.  _Would've_ , if they hadn't have been interrupted.

"Hey, Marshall," A soft voice cut through Marshall's question and both he and Bonnibel spun around to look at the new addition to the conversation, "Do you know if Dad's going to be home early tonight?"

Bonnie blinked up at Marceline and then back at Marshall. She looked alarmingly similar to her male companion. The wild mane of jet black hair, the bright green eyes, the pale complexion. They were almost identical, right down to the ripped black skinny jeans.

 _Yep_ , Bonnie nodded to herself,  _definitely twins._

"Oh, hey, Marceline," Marshall smiled at her, nodding down to Bonnibel, "This is Bonnibel. She's new here."

Marceline stared down at her in a way that Bonnie could only describe as  _cold_. Icy, maybe, Marceline's green eyes piercing right through Bonnie's entire being. It gave her shivers down her spine and made her feel like something bad was about to happen, and it only solidified Bonnie's original intentions of staying away from her.

Eventually, Marceline spoke. "I know. She's in my science classes," Then she finally tore her gaze from Bonnie – to the strawberry blonde's relief – and let out a sigh, "Can you just answer my question?"

Marshall shrugged and, completely unhelpfully, answered. "I don't know what time Dad is going to get home. Why do you even care?"

The glare Marceline shot him – although terrifying – didn't compare to the look she'd sent Bonnie's way. "Do I need a reason?"

Bonnie watched as the twins were stuck in some sort of staring stalemate, an unexplainable tension in her rib cage. She assumed it was just because of the bad atmosphere surrounding this girl; she wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.

Eventually, it was Marshall who broke eye contact and sighed, "He's not going to get home at the same time as us. It'll probably be the usual time." His sister nodded and didn't say anything else, so he added, "I take it you won't be getting in until late, then?"

"Probably not," Marceline murmured, "Save me whatever we have for dinner."

"Alright." Marshall nodded and as if that was her cue to leave, Marceline spun on her heels and stalked off in the direction she'd come in.

Bonnie let the tension in her ribs release in the form of a sigh, and she turned back to her notebook and scribbled down another answer. Anything to get her mind off how incredibly standoffish Marceline was. In fact, she kind of reminded Bonnie of Mr Abadeer; she was intense. Except her dad was a lot nicer.

"I know she's kind of strange," Marshall cut Bonnie's train of thought off, "I'm sorry if she freaked you out or anything."

"That's okay, Marshall," Bonnibel sent him a reassuring smile as she closed one of her library-borrowed textbooks, "It's not like I intend to make friends with her or anything."

Was that rude? She could've sworn she'd seen Marshall's face fall for a moment, but his toothy grin came back not even a nanosecond later.

"Yeah, okay," He glanced in the direction his sister had stalked off in, "That's probably a good thing."

Bonnie blinked in surprise. Even this girl's  _brother_  thought that Bonnie should stay away.  _Jesus_.

She couldn't stop herself from blurting out "Why?" and internally smacking herself as she did. That was probably way too invasive and she was an idiot for saying it.

Marshall hummed, as though he was debating if explaining to her was a good idea or a bad one. He must've settled on good, because he replied quickly, "She's not – it's not exactly a secret that she gets into fights a lot and stuff. She would deny it if anyone asks, but yeah…"

Bonnie coughed to clear her throat, closing her physics textbook. In an attempt at changing the subject, she said, "Well, I think I'm going to get some fresh air. I can finish my homework tonight."

"Want some company?" He asked her again, "Or are you still alright by yourself?"

She smiled, finally, "Yeah, I think company would be nice. I'm sure Lady will come and find me in a few minutes once her class is over. She always manages to."

"Maybe she's put a homing device somewhere," Marshall joked, drumming his fingers against the table as she packed up her things, "It wouldn't surprise me. She probably just wants to make sure you don't get lost at all during your first few weeks."

"Yeah, probably." Bonnie concurred, slinging her pink backpack over her shoulder, "Let's go. Are we going to sit under the bleachers as usual?"

Marshall hummed in thought, "No, I've got a better idea."

Bonnie's face sunk into a frown. "Better?"

"If I said you probably couldn't be tracked down by Lady, would you think that's better than here?" He asked her. "Because she won't know that you're with me if you want a break from all of them."

Bonnie didn't want to say yes – it'd make her seem like she didn't like her new acquaintances, and she did like their company. Also, Marshall kind of made her uneasy by the way he was smirking at her. She assumed it was intended to be attractive, but it wasn't really working for her.

"Um, no, I think the bleachers are fine," Bonnie finally came to a good answer. She wasn't sure she wanted to be alone with some guy she barely knew. Not until they were actually friends. "Lady said in an earlier class that she wanted to get my phone number from me today, so I should probably be where she can find me."

"When Lady wants your phone number, you know that you're part of the group." Marshall laughed, "It'll be Elle asking next. Just stay on her good side. Marce knows from experience."

Bonnie decided not to comment on that last bit. "I'm part of the group? That's…really cool. I haven't met Elle yet, really. Apparently she spends most of her time with her boyfriend, Brad, and this girl called Melissa."

"Be prepared," Marshall warned her, "I'm surprised she isn't dying to meet you. New kid from a different continent? She'll want to know all of the English trends."

" _I_  don't even know the English trends," Bonnie laughed, ducking under his arm as he held the door open for her, "I was never a very trendy person."

"How disappointing for her," He commented and nodded in greeting at a curly haired boy who walked past them, "You might want to get that piece of information in early."

"Bonnibel!"

At the sound of her name, Bonnie halted the conversation with Marshall and spun on her heels to see Lady, Fionna, a redhead and yet  _another_  blonde girl stood with them. She flashed them a smile and turned back to Marshall. "I think they want me. Are you going to come with us?"

"Nah, I'm going to go and see Guy. I think he's in music with Keila." He took a few steps in the opposite direction and smiled at her. "I'll see you around, yeah?"

"Yeah," Bonnie flashed him a smile and walked over to her friends and the two new people, ignoring Lady's amused smirk for the moment, "Hey guys. How're you?"

"Bonnibel," Lady repeated, still smirking, "This is Phoebe," she gestured to the redhead, "and Elle," she nodded at the blonde, this time.

Bonnie flashed them both a nervous smile, "Hi. Nice to meet you both. I'm Bonnibel."

Fionna continued Lady's introduction. "Phoebe is Finn's girlfriend and Elle is-"

"Single," Elle cut her off with an unintimidating scowl, "as of last week. Brad did something totally uncalled for and I had to break it off again.  _Ugh_. He's obviously not mature enough for me."

Boy drama was this girl's thing, seemingly. Bonnie never really got involved when it came to gossiping, particularly about boys. She didn't exactly have any experience or wisdom to impart on people. She'd never had a boyfriend, or a crush on a boy before, and that was probably weird for a sixteen year old. A lot of girls back at home had boyfriends when they were thirteen, at  _least_.

"Speaking of relationships," Uh-oh, Lady's smirk was back. That couldn't be good. "You and Marshall are really hitting it off."

Bonnie's eyebrows dipped into a frown. Did Lady mean what she thought? Because if so, that was wildly inaccurate. Bonnie wasn't interested in him like that. "Yeah. He's a nice guy. Friendly."

 _Emphasis on the friend part_ , Bonnie mentally added to that. Although she'd never had a crush, she was certain that what she felt for Marshall wasn't it.

"He's cute, too," Fionna encouraged her, "You should hang out with him for lunch. I'm sure you could catch up with him if you wanted to."

Bonnibel shrugged, "I could, if I wanted to. But I don't. I'd rather spend time with you and everyone else."

"Not interested, eh?" Phoebe nudged her softly in the upper arm. "That sucks. He seems to be."

Bonnie frowned even  _more_ , if that was possible. Marshall was interested in her? She doubted that. He was just being friendly because she was new and it was the polite thing to do. Right?

"I don't think so," Bonnie shook her head, "He isn't interested in me. Boys don't usually find me very…hot? I'm kind of awkward."

"Everyone gets like that around boys they like, though." Elle looked at her like she was some sort of imbecile, which Bonnie didn't like at all. Maybe Elle was merely a little shocked at Bonnie's lack of experience. Yeah, that was it. "When you like someone, they make you all nervous."

Bonnie decided to keep that in mind. "Oh. Well, I don't think I've been here long enough to like anyone. It's only been a week and a half."

"You don't need that long to find someone attractive." Apparently, Elle was set on educating her on romance and flirting. Great. She'd known this girl for all of five minutes and she was giving her dating advice. "You just  _know_  when you look at them."

"It's safe to say that I haven't  _just known_  with anybody." Bonnie assured them, sending Lady a firm look to reinforce it. "Maybe once I get to know Marshall, I'll like him. Or someone else."

Lady sent her a knowing smile and slung an arm around her shoulder. "Yeah. Maybe."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bonnie explores again. This time with company.

The phone buzzed, its noise amplified by the table it had been left on. Huffing, Bonnibel dropped her pen and leaned over, reading the message she'd been sent. She hadn't expected it to be from an actual  _person_  – probably just an automated text from the phone company or something – but no, it was a proper message. She didn't get many of those.

_**Lady (10:32AM): Want to join us for a day of Christmas shopping?** _

Bonnie's forehead creased into a frown. A day of shopping wasn't really her thing, but if she said no, it was possible that she wouldn't get invited again. Besides, it might be nice to look around town again. Maybe she'd change her opinion of it if she looked with acquaintances.

_**Bonnibel (10:34AM): Yeah, okay. Where shall I meet you?** _

Her phone had barely touched the table again when it vibrated. Apparently Lady was a fast texter. She wasn't really surprised – with the number of friends Lady had, it was probably a good skill to have. Maybe Bonnie should work on her typing.

_**Lady (10:34AM): Jake and I will pick you up at eleven. Be ready. :)** _

Sighing a little, she cast a wistful glance over at her notebook, her planned experiment going out of the window. Whatever, she'd have time to do it when she came home, and she had the entirety of Sunday ahead of her. It'd be fine.

She stretched and stood up from her desk chair, crossing the room to reach her closet. Opening the door, she glanced at all of the lovely dresses that she couldn't wear because of the cold, and settled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

She brushed out her strawberry blonde hair and pulled it back into a loose ponytail, working on her makeup and checking the time on her phone every five minutes. She didn't expect her friends to be on time, and wasn't surprised when they arrived at ten past eleven rather than their designated time. Not that she minded – sometimes Bonnie could be a little sloppy with timekeeping herself.

Even though they'd arrived a little late, Bonnie still smiled when she saw Jake's car pull up outside of her house. She waved goodbye to Peter and tentatively walked down her icy driveway – the beginning of December meant lots of ice, apparently – jumping into the backseat of Jake's car.

"Hey," Lady craned her neck around to send her a warm smile, "Morning. We've got a ten minute drive to the mall ahead of us that's probably going to be extended to twenty minutes because of the ice, so I'd sit tight."

Bonnie felt like correcting her – Jake set off at a snail's pace, which made her feel like the drive would be more like twenty  _hours_. "Alright. Who're we meeting at the mall?"

"Finn, Phoebe, and Elle. Fionna has soccer on Saturday afternoons so she couldn't come, and I'm not sure if Marshall's coming because he's usually with his other friends on a Saturday." Lady shrugged, her mention of Marshall accompanied by a little smirk that Bonnie had trouble deciphering.

"Alright then," Bonnie nodded, "So…you're shopping for Christmas presents?"

"Yup," Jake responded, popping the 'p'. "I'm nearly done. Just need to finish shopping for my brothers. Lady said she needed to get something for Elle."

"Yeah," Lady continued for him, "and Finn. What about you? How many presents have you bought?"

"Oh, I only need to buy one or two presents around Christmas," Bonnie knew that was kind of sad, but it didn't bother her. "I left my best friend's present with him back in England, and I've bought my uncle's already. I'm done."

That was the trouble when you moved just two months before Christmas – your old friends gave you your present early, and your new friends didn't bother buying anything for you because you were new. She wasn't expecting anything from Lady and everyone, of course, but Bonnie wasn't used to getting too many presents anyway. She didn't have a very big family.

"Small family, eh?" Jake sent an awkward smile after he and Lady exchanged an odd glance. "Lucky you. I have too many siblings and a big friend group. It's kind of stressful to buy for so many people."

Whether she was  _lucky_  was a matter of opinion, but she didn't argue. Christmas stress got to a lot of people and she didn't want to invalidate that.

Lady changed the subject, probably intentionally. "So, have you done any exploring yet?"

"I've done a little bit, but I'm unsure of where I'm going sometimes," Bonnie admitted, "I know where the music shop is – I might stop by to say hello to Keila while everyone else buys presents. She works there, doesn't she?"

"Keila?" Lady exchanged another weird look with Jake, "I didn't know you'd made friends with her."

"Yeah, she was actually the first person I spoke to when I moved here. I like her." Bonnie's forehead creased into a frown at Lady's worried expression. "Is that a problem or something?"

"No, it's just…I mean, we've heard a few things…" Lady trailed off, apparently unable to explain why she'd seemed a little  _off_. "Uh, you know what, it doesn't matter."

Bonnie eyed her warily. "Alright." She allowed a short pause before changing the subject. "Were there any specific places you wanted to show me?"

Lady hummed in thought. "No, not really. Just the main stores so you know where to get certain things from. Unless there's something we might have that you want to look at?"

"I don't think there'll be anything that will interest me. I'm not a big shopper, so clothes shops are a no. Do you have anything…educational?" Bonnie felt like saying 'scientific' wouldn't get an affirmative, but there had to be something educational. Surely.

"We have a bookstore. If that's what you meant." Jake replied, his teeth clamped down on his bottom lip as he focused on parking.

"We have  _two_  bookstores, actually." Lady replied, "One in the mall and one outside of it."

"I didn't go into the mall during my last little exploring day." Bonnie said. In fact, she hadn't really thought that the town had a mall. "Maybe this will be fun."

"Maybe you can go into one of the bookstores when we're doing something that doesn't interest you." Lady suggested, unbuckling her seatbelt.

Bonnie waited until Jake turned the engine off before taking her seatbelt off. "Yeah, that sounds cool. I need something new to read, anyway. All of the books I brought from England, I've already read."

"I bet you're one of those people who has a new book every day." Jake laughed as he jumped out of the driver's side and skirted around the car to open to door for Lady, and then for Bonnie.

Bonnibel smiled. She'd never had someone be so chivalrous before. It was nice. Bubba never used to do things like that before, and people used to assume that they were dating. If Bonnie managed to get into a relationship here, she'd like them to be as sweet as Jake.

She stretched and glanced around herself, trying to recognise something, anything from the area they were in. She vaguely remembered the grocery store, having walked past it when she'd first explored, but that was all. Maybe she hadn't looked around as much as she thought.

"We're around the corner from the music store if you want to run across and say hello to Keila before we meet everyone else." Lady offered, linking her arm through Bonnie's.

Bonnibel shrugged, "That sounds nice. Are you going to come in with me?"

"Um," Lady looked back over to Jake with the same indecipherable expression as before, "I don't really know Keila all that well. It's probably best if I don't. I might make it awkward."

Bonnie frowned again, unsure. Why was her friendship with Keila such a touchy subject? Keila was nice, wasn't she? "Alright…wait outside for me?"

Lady halted as they stopped in front of the music store. "Yeah, of course. I'll stay right here."

Bonnie unlinked their arms with a nod and stepped into the store, thankful for the central heating. She looked over to the counter, expecting to see Keila's bright smile.

She really wasn't expecting to see Marceline, looking up at her with an icy expression that gave her chills.

Bonnie cleared her throat and glanced down at her feet. Breaking eye contact made Marceline a lot less intimidating. "Um…sorry, I was just -"

Marceline raised an eyebrow, but didn't move from her seat behind the counter. "Looking for anything specific?"

"Um, well…Keila, actually." Bonnie let out an uncomfortable laugh and lifted her gaze to Marceline again. She was still staring at her like she was trying to flay her telepathically. Great. "Is she not working today?"

"No. Usually she is, but I had to cover for her." Marceline's gaze flicked between Bonnie and the door. "If that's all you're here for…"

"I didn't know you worked here too." Bonnie awkwardly tried to make conversation. "That's cool, that you have a job and stuff. You can get money for Christmas presents and -"

"Listen, princess, you don't have to make small talk with me." Marceline cut over her, sharp, apathetic and cold. "You don't like me, and I couldn't care less."

Bonnibel's face sunk into a frown at the second word of Marceline's sentence.  _Princess_? What the hell was that supposed to mean? "You don't need to be so rude."

"I'm not being rude," Marceline scowled at her and rose from her seat, but made no move to come out from behind the counter, "I'm being honest. I don't care that you're Keila's friend. You don't have to make small talk with me, especially when she's not here. I know that you don't like me, and I don't particularly enjoy your company either."

" _That's_  rude. God, didn't your mother teach you any manners?" Bonnibel snapped back. She wouldn't tolerate rudeness. Not at all. She didn't care about Marceline's 'reputation'. If someone was rude to her, she'd be rude right back.

She was surprised that was all it took to shut Marceline up. She slumped back into her seat, her icy glare completely wiped clean from her face and replaced with a blank nothingness.

Bonnie smiled, taking that as a victory, and spun on her heels and left the shop. She sent Lady a soft smile and proceeded to follow her and Jake down the road, presumably in the direction of the mall.

"Did you and Keila have a nice talk?" Lady asked her, "You weren't in there for very long."

Bonnie shook her head. "Keila wasn't in there. Marceline was working."

Again, Jake and Lady exchanged a look, except it was a lot different than the first few. More exaggerated, more worried. She wasn't sure how to take that.

Jake finally broke the silence. "You're friends with her?"

Bonnie scoffed, " _God_ , no. She was being impolite and I put her in her place."

Lady's eyes widened to the point where Bonnie was seriously worried they'd pop out of their sockets. "You did  _what_?"

"I stood up to her," Bonnie tried to play it off like it wasn't a big deal, which it really wasn't. She merely wanted to show Marceline that she had a backbone and her rudeness wouldn't be tolerated, reputation or no reputation. "It wasn't a big thing. Forget about it."

"Did you  _not_ listen to what we told you about her?" Jake asked, "Penchant for fights and violence? That ring any bells?"

"Yeah," Lady cast a brief look at Jake, "You'd better hope you didn't make her angry."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "I doubt it. She didn't seem like she cared, to be honest. I don't particularly care, either. I have an avoidance policy."

Jake sent her a look that roughly translated into  _I'm impressed_. "Well, alright then. As long as you're not worried."

Bonnie allowed herself a proud smile and shook her head. "I'm not. So, the mall?"

Lady seemed to wake up at the mention of the mall and hooked her arm through Bonnie's again. "Yeah, we're just two minutes away. It's around a few corners. Elle texted and said that she's there and already met up with Finn and Phoebe."

Bonnie just nodded in response and let herself look around and take things in as she was walked down the road. She was surprised by how quiet everything was – since it was a few weeks before Christmas, she expected a lot of shoppers. Big crowds, people rushing everywhere to make the deadline. No, apparently everyone here was quite organised with their Christmas shopping.

Either that or it was just because it wasn't lunchtime yet.

Probably that.

"Finally," Bonnie was pulled out of her mini-daydream when her friends came to a halt, "Let's get inside. Central heating is much better than this."

Bonnie looked up at the building in front of her.  _Glassrock Mall_  was plastered on the front, Christmas decorations and dormant lights decorating it. That made it look a lot more welcoming than it looked the rest of the year, Bonnie guessed. She didn't mind – shopping in December always felt a lot better than shopping in the rest of the year. The festive decorations made it that little bit more exciting. The light dusting of snow on the ground outside contributed to that too.

She followed Jake and Lady inside and up the elevator to the food court level in the sizeable mall, spotting the rest of the group almost immediately merely by Finn's bear hat. The way he jumped up and waved at them was kind of a giveaway, too.

Smiling, Bonnie sat down in the free seat next to Elle, who spun around to her. "So, England. Tell me about it."

Bonnibel frowned. "What do you mean? What kind of things do you want to know?"

"I don't know, what's cool there. Things about you." Elle's smile darkened and turned into a smirk. "Got a cute British boyfriend waiting back there for you, eh?"

The muscles in Bonnie's chest seemed to collectively relax, and she let out easy laughter. "Oh, no. I thought I already mentioned that. I've never been in a relationship before."

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" Phoebe asked this time – apparently Elle was a little bit too surprised by Bonnie's lack of experience. She could've sworn she'd gone over that. "Like, ever?"

Bonnie shook her head, trying to ignore the embarrassed burning in her cheeks. At home, she always assumed she'd get a boyfriend when she was older. University, is what she'd assured herself. That's when she'd start getting crushes and liking people.

"We need to set you up." Elle concluded and conjured up her phone. She started scrolling through something, but Bonnie couldn't tell what it was. Most likely, it was a contact list. "What's your type?"

Bonnie shook her head. "That's really not necessary."

"It's fine, seriously," Elle persisted, " _Type_ , please. Or I'll have to set you up with some random boy."

Bonnie didn't like the sound of that, but she didn't really have a type. How could she have a type if she'd never liked anyone before? She couldn't remember feeling nervous and jittery around a boy before, so she couldn't describe anyone to her friends. The only person she'd ever felt weird around was a girl she was friends with in middle school, but that had just been envy and admiration over the way she'd looked. She'd wanted to  _be_  that girl, not  _be with_  her.

Eventually, she just shrugged. "No type. Honestly. I'd like to get settled in before any of that."

Elle huffed, and it was accompanied with a laugh from Phoebe. "You know she won't give up, right? She's persistent."

Bonnie wasn't sure if she should be worried. "Oh, well…she can try, but I doubt anybody she'll set me up with will do the trick."

Was it weird for her to never have had a crush? Bonnie couldn't help but think that. Was something wrong with her? It wasn't that she wasn't mature enough – no, Bonnie was mature beyond her years. It had to be something else.

She decided that she'd blame it on not having met the right person yet.

That was the only logical explanation.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bonnie finds something in the back of a library book.

Libraries? The best things ever invented. That was a fact, one that Bonnie could confirm was one hundred percent scientifically accurate. Libraries in December were even better.

It was 3PM and already starting to get dark outside, the soft oranges, yellows and purples of the sunset blending outside to create a work of art that was incredibly relaxing to glance at now and again. The library was mostly empty – Bonnie was lucky enough to have a free period for the last hour on a Friday, and she appreciated the library's solitude, as most students with a similar free period tended to go home early, their absence forgotten by Monday.

Naturally, Bonnibel had finished all of her homework and had decided that she was going to pick out a book from the school's small collection of fictional works. She'd settled on a Stephen King novel – one she hadn't read,  _Cell_  – and settled down in the back corner for the last half hour of the school day. As she liked the book so far, she had decided that she was going to check it out and take it home for the week, not that it'd take her that long to finish it. Bonnie was the type of person that finished books in a few hours, rather than spacing it out across days. It was better to read that way – she didn't forget any little details that she might've had she taken any long breaks.

She turned the page again, rolling her eyes automatically. Someone had scribbled over a part of a word to make it say something else. How idiotic. Every time there was a little scribble on the page, Bonnibel scowled. She couldn't stand it when other students defaced school property, particularly library books. They were an important and essential resource, and deserved student respect. But of course, her peers  _were_  teenagers; she probably shouldn't expect much.

She heard a shuffling behind a bookcase and glanced up, a frown settling on her features when she saw a mane of onyx hair and the arm of a black sweater. "Marshall?"

A voice that definitely  _wasn't_  Marshall's responded. "Wrong twin."

Bonnie blinked in surprise and cleared her throat as Marceline peered around the bookcase and sent her the same intense, cold look that she had worn on their last meeting. Bonnie's eyes swept across the girl's face, taking in the perfectly plucked eyebrows, the sharp jawline that looked to have been carved by the heavens – Bonnie was surprised that she hadn't noticed it on Marshall – and the girl's bright emerald eyes that were burning holes through Bonnie's blue ones.

She realised she was staring and felt warmth rush to her cheeks. "Sorry. Didn't mean to disturb you."

"Yeah, whatever," Marceline didn't sound very impressed at all, "Don't talk to me. Okay?"

Bonnibel's expression soured. "I said sorry. There's no need for you to be so rude all the time. You could've easily accepted my apology and moved on like a decent human being would've."

Marceline bristled, the cold look morphing into an honest to god  _glare_. "Yeah, and  _you_  don't need to be so obnoxious and prissy. You're not the fucking queen."

"I really don't think there's any need for that kind of  _language._ " Bonnie tried a glare herself, but it didn't work as well as Marceline's. "I think that  _you're_  the obnoxious one, actually, and I would appreciate it if you'd leave me alone so I can get some reading done."

"My pleasure." Marceline spat back, all sourness and anger and irritation coupled with a smile that was dripping sarcasm. Bonnie was surprised she didn't get her teeth kicked in.

Needless to say, she let out a loud sigh of relief when Marceline disappeared from view. Out of sight, out of mind. The library was much more relaxing without her.

She gave herself a few more moments to calm down before turning back to her book, flipping to the page she'd left off at. She read a few more lines before turning pages again, scowling at  _more_  graffiti. Except this graffiti in particular was weird.

It was a phone number.

Scrawled across the page in pencil, a phone number was left with the message –  _call me to talk about this book_ , followed by multiple smiley faces _._

Bonnie rolled her eyes. What kind of an idiot would leave their phone number in a book that belonged in a high school library? Naturally, the person was going to get a load of prank callers and god knows what else.

It would only be a nice gesture if Bonnie was to text and tell them that their number was left in a library book. Right? She asked herself this a few times as she fingered her phone and typed the number into the 'recipient' section. She was  _just_  being a good person. She didn't want anything else from this.

_**Bonnie (3:12PM): It's not a very smart move to leave your phone number in the middle of a high school library book.** _

Admittedly, the text could've been a little nicer, but Bonnie didn't care. Whoever it was had a right to know. If Bonnie wanted to tease them about it a little bit, she would. They were the one that left their phone number somewhere publicly accessible.

She went back to reading, casting subtle glances over at her phone in case a text came through. She kept doing this – book, phone, book, phone – until she felt herself getting dizzy. She was grateful when the school bell rang and signalled the end of the day, and she packed up her things to head off to the bus stop. Instead of putting her phone in her bag like she usually would, she slid it into the front pocket of her purple jeans and slung her backpack over her shoulder.

Her phone didn't buzz until she was halfway through her bus journey home.

_**Unknown (3:37PM): that wasn't me** _

Bonnie rolled her eyes at the response. Of course the person would try to blame their idiotic actions on someone else. Naturally, they didn't want to be seen as stupid. Except Bonnibel wasn't stupid either, and that story didn't add up to her.

_**Bonnie (3:38PM): Yeah, alright. I totally believe that the magic book fairies wrote your phone number down. Of course.** _

This time, she didn't have to wait too long for a response. Her phone buzzed the moment she tucked it back into her pocket, so she slid it out again and read the message on her lock screen.

_**Unknown (3:39PM): no seriously it was my friend** _

_**Unknown (3:39PM): she wrote it as a joke because she's a dickhead and never erased it I guess** _

That, Bonnie could believe. Friends could be like that. Personally, she'd never had to experience a prank from a friend – Bubba was never into pranks – but she knew that they could happen.

_**Bonnie (3:40PM): Oh, alright then. I have the book it's in if you want me to get rid of it. Also, can I get your name? I'd like to know who I'm talking to if I'm forming a new book bond with someone.** _

Bonnie cringed as she read that over.  _Way to sound like a giant nerd_. Her subtle attempt at furthering the conversation really wasn't all that subtle. Dammit.

_**Unknown (3:42PM): yes please** _

_**Unknown (3:42PM): and I'll tell you my name if you'll tell me yours** _

Humming in thought, Bonnie turned that over in her head. Maybe she should. Maybe she'd make a new friend, which was becoming her new intention. Or, whoever it was would know who she was and not want to talk to her for some reason. That wouldn't be good.

Keeping her identity a secret seemed like the much better choice. She could make a friend, who she could tell things to with no repercussions. That sounded nice.

She settled on an answer.

_**Bonnie (3:43PM): I'd like to remain anonymous, if that's alright. Think of me as your mystery book saviour.** _

_**Unknown (3:44PM): well then I'm also staying anon** _

_**Unknown (3:45PM): and thanks for getting rid of my number, you seriously don't know how many annoying prank callers and dick pics i've gotten** _

That response actually made Bonnie smile, something she'd never done at a simple text message. Weird. Anonymous texter had a dry sense of humour, something that Bonnie could appreciate.

_**Bonnie (3:45PM): Sounds horrific. You won't be getting any of the latter from me. The prank calls, I can't promise won't happen. ;)** _

_**Unknown (3:46PM): you can't, I saved your number** _

_**Unknown (3:46PM): hah, i'm one step ahead of you or something** _

Bonnie blinked in surprise. They'd saved her phone number? Did that mean something, or was it just for the purpose of their own prank calls?

(Bonnie had a tendency to overthink things.)

_**Bonnie (3:47PM): May I ask what I'm saved as?** _

_**Unknown (3:47PM): mystery book saviour, obviously ;)** _

And  _that_  message got a smile out of her. It was kind of sweet.

_**Bonnie (3:48PM): Haha, awesome. :)** _

She didn't get a response to that right away, so she assumed that the conversation was over. Tucking her phone back into her pocket, she turned back to the front of the bus, her smile glued to her face. Anonymous texter had lightened her mood significantly.

She was still grinning when she arrived home.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bonnie stays after school to get a little bit of work done.

Bonnibel paused outside of the classroom, staring at the sky blue door as though it would open for her. She was unsure if she should knock – it was after hours and she wasn't sure if the teacher was still in there, but he  _had_  said that the room was available at this time. Did that mean that he was leaving, but she was allowed to stay?

Eventually, she knocked on the door. Three tight raps with her knuckles, loud and clear. If he was in there, she'd be heard.

Sure enough, there was a cough and a crisp, "Come in," so Bonnie pushed the door open and sent her teacher a smile. He was allowing her to use his room; it was only polite for her to smile at him  _and_  the unexpected guest.

(Naturally, the smile towards the latter was tighter and constricted.)

"Hello, Mr Abadeer," Bonnie carefully greeted him. She cast a glance towards the other dark haired occupant of the room. "Marceline."

Marceline merely scowled at her in response, but forced a "Hello," when her dad sent her a scathing look. Internally, Bonnie thanked him. She wasn't sure how Marceline was so rude when her father seemed perfectly aligned and proper.

"Take a seat anywhere you'd like, Miss Butler. I know you appreciate the extra study sessions I put on after school." He looked over to Marceline when he said that, as though the words would change something in his daughter's attitude. Bonnie doubted that'd work.

She sat down at her usual seat near the front and grabbed her notebook from her bag, setting it on the table. Her pens came out – one black, one red, and one green – and were set on the desk, perfectly straight. She fingered the black one and began writing, jotting down notes from memory on what they'd gone over in class so far that week.

That was her standard revision technique – notes from memory and  _then_  refer to a textbook for more detail. It helped things sink in a little better. It was also how she used to help Bubba back at home. If he had been struggling with something in science, she'd help him out by recapping from her memory. Bonnie had an extensive memory when it came to science.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when a textbook slammed closed behind her. It knocked the note she was about to write about the carbon cycle right out of her mind. She gritted her teeth in annoyance, but didn't voice her feelings; according to Jake and Lady, anyone who did that to Marceline got punched. Fighting wasn't a road she wanted to go down.

"I'm going home." Marceline's voice was much too gentle and melodic for the way she was speaking to her dad. All 'you can't tell me what to do' and teenage angst. In fact, if she wasn't being so rude to everyone, Bonnie might like to listen to her talk. Her voice was…smooth. But that was beside the point. "What time are you finishing up?"

"Well, whenever Bonnibel here decides she wants to finish. I can't leave her unsupervised in the classroom. It's against school policy." Mr Abadeer folded his arms across his chest. "If you're so intent on leaving, you can go home and do the laundry. Your brother is busy tonight with soccer and I don't think you have anything better to do."

Bonnie's face sunk into a frown. There was something under Mr Abadeer's tone that she didn't like.

She chose not to comment. Judging by the way she'd spoken to her the other day, Marceline wasn't a very respectful person. Therefore, she didn't deserve Bonnie's concern.

Marceline shook her head. "Actually, I wanted to get started on-"

Hunson cut over her. "No arguments. Laundry. You never do chores, so I think it's time you make up for that. Understood?"

Marceline sighed and slung her backpack over her shoulder. "Fine. Whatever. I'll see you at home."

She crossed the room and headed towards the door, again, halted by her dad. "Aren't you going to say goodbye to Bonnibel? It's common courtesy, Marceline."

Marceline rolled her eyes and turned to Bonnibel, sending her the most sarcastic smile she could muster. All it elicited from Bonnie was a scowl. "Later, princess."

With that, she stalked out of the door, Bonnie's scowl seemingly permanent. Disrespectful. Mocking. Irreverent. The only words that could accurately describe Marceline were negative, typically.

Hunson seemed to sense her displeasure. "I'm sorry about that. She can be so… _rude_  sometimes. I don't know where I…"

He trailed off and Bonnie decided not to press him for the end of that sentence. She didn't think it'd end very well.

"Yeah, well…I don't know, I guess she was just having a bad day." Bonnie suggested, trying to keep her tone optimistic. Apparently, every day was a bad day for Marceline. "I'm sure she isn't like that all the time."

Lying. Lying wasn't something Bonnie did regularly. Not unless she was trying to make someone feel better, and even then, sometimes she didn't hold back. She just didn't want her favourite teacher to dislike her just because she didn't particularly like his daughter.

Hunson smiled that rigid smile of his again, and Bonnie felt a little better about her lie. "Yes, well…life can be like that sometimes."

She nodded, and looked back down at her notebook again. She tested her pen in the margin of a page and then continued jotting down a few notes, feeling a lot more relaxed without Marceline in the room.

Hunson broke the silence again. "How are you settling in? You've been here for almost a month now."

"Oh, yeah, it's nice here." Bonnie nodded. More lies. Everything was still mediocre about the place. She thought maybe she'd like it better when it was snowy and everything was covered with a soft, white blanket, but it didn't feel the same. When it snowed in York, the city looked like the picturesque place on every single Christmas card. When it snowed here, it was just…boring. "I've made some good friends and school is nice."

Nice. The most unexceptional adjective in the entire English language. She'd used that to describe Glassrock quite a lot.

"I'm glad you've settled in." He sent her that weird smile of his again. Bonnie was fairly certain he hadn't smiled that much in the past few weeks. Every other time she saw him, he usually had a stoic look across his face. Kind of like Marceline, except she mixed things up with a few scowls and glares.

Apparently Marshall was the only Abadeer who actually knew how to smile.

She wasn't surprised when he brought Marceline up again. "I'm really sorry about my daughter, by the way. I'm sure that was probably the worst possible first impression she could've given you."

 _Oh, don't worry, I've met her before and she was a total bitch then, too._  That probably wouldn't be a very good answer. Instead, Bonnie politely shrugged and answered, "I'm sure she's a lot nicer on a better day. One encounter isn't enough to form an opinion on someone. At least for me."

A strange look crossed his face, but Bonnie paid it no mind. He was probably just surprised that she didn't think that Marceline was a raging bitch.

(She  _did_ , but he didn't need to know that.)

"Oh, well," He did that thing where he straightened out his papers by tapping them on the desk, similarly to the way news anchors do. "That's good to know. I'll let you get back to your homework now. Focus on schoolwork is important."

Bonnie took that last part into consideration as she pushed Marceline from her mind. Yes. Schoolwork. That was why she'd come in the first place.

She cleared her throat and looked back to the words she'd written on the page, scanning over her perfect cursive for any errors before continuing.

She didn't think about Marceline again for the rest of the day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Marceline really hates Thursdays.

One day. Just one more day to get through.

That's what Marceline kept in her head, on an endless loop, and it'd stay there until the number hit zero and she didn't have to go to school again for two weeks.

Of course, she'd have to be home for two weeks, but that was a different problem.

She'd probably like school a whole lot more if she didn't have to go. Optional school sounded great. Technically, most students  _did_  have optional school. It's not like  _their_  dad was a teacher. It's not like their parents make sure they're in school at every possible second.

Seriously. Marceline could projectile vomit in the middle of the cafeteria and her dad would make her stay at school. She could almost hear him –  _"Oh, don't be silly, that was nothing. You can leave when you're actually sick."_

She hated Thursdays. They were the worst day of the week. Far worse than Mondays. On Monday, she only had one lesson with her dad. Sure, it was a double period, but then once he'd seen her in school, she could split. She could go to the local Starbucks for a coffee if she wanted to.

Thursdays? She had a double period of both chemistry and physics. Four hours of her dad, and then an additional, infinite number of hours with him at home. Fantastic. He'd probably be the biggest nuisance of her Christmas break. At least she could sneak out and go to Keila's. That was why she'd rather be on a break than at school.

But it was still Thursday, and she still had to get through it.

She stretched, dragging herself out of bed and into a pair of black skinny jeans and a black sweater. It took her a while to tame her hair – it always did, since it was getting far too long and out of control. Not that she'd cut it, though.

She didn't bother saying goodbye to her dad as she walked out of the door, a cup of coffee in one hand and a bus ticket in the other.

That was another thing that she hated. The bus. She'd stopped having to take it a little while ago since she'd passed her driving test, but then her car broke down. And since she'd spent all of her money on learning to drive and buying a new mandolin, she couldn't get it fixed. There was no way her dad would give her the money to fix it, but money for bus trips?  _That_  he could do.

(Luckily, Bongo had nearly repaired her car for her.)

She quickly drained her cup of coffee – plastic cups for hot drinks weren't ideal – and then leaned against the bus timetable, scowling at the occasional peer who dared to glance at her.

Naturally, she was first on the bus, and stalked her way to the back. It was already crowded, since her stop was one of the last, and she ended up next to the short redhead – or was her hair strawberry blonde? – from her science classes. The one that sucked up to her dad and answered all of his questions. The one that had the nerve to talk back to her.

Bonnibel.

Marceline didn't like her. No convincing from Keila would do the trick. Her best friend had tried to get her to like Bonnibel so she could invite her over, but Marceline wouldn't like her. No. Not going to happen. She was stubborn like that, and she didn't go chasing after friendship.

Bonnibel fidgeted next to her, and out of her peripheral, Marceline saw her mouth to a friend something along the lines of  _I'm okay_. Like Marceline was some sort of wild animal that would attack at any moment. The thought made her want to scoff.

If rumours weren't a thing and Bonnibel wasn't so prissy and high maintenance, Marceline might've considered friendship. Might've. But Bonnibel  _was_  prissy, and Marceline couldn't tell what Keila saw in her. She didn't know how her other friends felt – the only comment Guy had made was  _nice tits_  – but she knew that her brother was a friend of hers. What kind of spell was Bonnie putting on them?

Because seriously, she had to be a witch. Nobody would like someone that conceited unless they were under some kind of spell.

(Either that or Bonnie was paying them.)

Marceline flinched back when she felt a prod to the side, and turned to Bonnibel with a glare. "What do you want?"

Bonnie's nose turned up in distaste. "That's not a very nice greeting."

Marceline rolled her eyes. "Do I look like I care?"

Bonnibel huffed. Marceline wanted to smack her. She was acting as if this conversation was a chore, when she was the one who started it for no apparent reason. It made her dislike Bonnie even more.

"Just –  _ugh_ ," Bonnie finally managed to voice something, "Did the homework on balancing chemical equations have to be in for our two hour lesson today? I've done it, obviously, but I wasn't sure which lesson we were supposed to bring it in for."

Marceline blinked.  _How the hell was she supposed to know that_? Marceline didn't give two fucks about science class. Why would she know if there was homework?

"Don't know, don't care." Marceline turned back to the front of the bus, keeping her scowl etched onto her face for any spectators. Not caring was something she specialised in. She didn't care about school, Bonnibel, or what onlookers thought.

All she cared to do was get through one more day.

* * *

Marceline tapped her pen on her desk, mimicking the clock's ticking.  _One, two, three, four, five._  Keila scowled at her, but that didn't make her stop. Instead, she merely smirked and tapped louder, but not loud enough to attract unwanted attention.

A coffee coloured hand blocked her pen from hitting the desk. "Marce, I swear to  _god_ , if you don't stop that I'll throw you out of the window."

Marceline snorted. "You'd throw  _me_  out of the window? You're tiny."

"I'm  _one inch_  shorter than you. Not forgetting I'm ten times as strong." Keila pointed out and pulled Marceline's pen from between her pale fingers. "There. No more tapping."

Marceline pouted at her. Thankfully, everyone was paying attention to her dad, so they didn't catch her moment of shame. "Now I can't take notes. You're ruining my education, K."

" _You_ , taking notes in class?" Keila barked out a laugh. "That's hilarious. Maybe in music class, but in here? That's ridiculous."

"You never know," Marceline leaned back on her chair, "I could be turning over a new leaf. Being studious and all that."

" _Could be_ ," Keila repeated, "Aren't. Stop that," she reached out and pulled Marceline's chair forwards, all four legs returning to the ground, "You could fall backwards and hurt yourself."

"I hope I do. This class is boring me to tears." Marceline groaned for emphasis and looked up to the ceiling. "How long do we have left?"

Keila turned her wrist upwards and rolled up the sleeve of her black hoodie. "One hour."

"What?" Marceline's gaze snapped back onto her friend and she shook her head. "No. We've already been here for like,  _three_."

"Class isn't even three hours long." Keila laughed, "I think the last hour shouldn't be too hard, though. Your dad mentioned something about a partner project, so we can work together and mess around."

That actually got a smile out of her. "Nice. Yeah. That'll be cool. I like working with you on projects and stuff."

"Not that we ever actually get any of the project done." Keila added, "But procrastinating by playing music is fun too."

Not ten seconds after Keila said that, her dad ruined her day.

"So, last week I might've said that we're doing paired assignments." He paused for a moment, probably watching in amusement as her peers grabbed hold of their friends, allowing them a false sense of security. " _But_  instead of allowing you to choose your partners, I'm going to be assigning them. You'll pick one topic we've studied so far this year and turn it in on our second Thursday lesson after the winter break."

Marceline rolled her eyes. Thursday. Again.

(She was trying to ignore the 'working with random people' thing.)

Hunson crossed to his desk and grasped a sheet of paper, holding it up. "Partners are as follows. Marceline," she rolled her eyes in response, "you're partnered with Bonnibel."

Marceline went from mild irritation to anger in 0.2 seconds. Of  _course_  her dad would put her with Bonnibel. He'd been talking about how he wished she'd be more like the other girl for the past three weeks. Maybe this was how he thought Bonnie would influence her.

Apparently, Bonnibel wasn't too happy about the situation either. When her dad finished calling out partners and she sunk down into the chair next to the strawberry blonde, Bonnibel turned to her with an unimpressed expression.

"I'm as happy about this as you are." Bonnie's tone was cold and clipped, which was surprising. "Just do your work and we won't have any trouble. Got it? I'm not going to do the entire project for you."

Marceline scowled in response. Like she'd expect that anyway. "Fine."

Even though Thursdays were never good, this one was particularly awful. She didn't think it could get any worse.

* * *

"I can't  _believe_  I have to work with her." Bonnie huffed and collapsed into the chair beside Finn. "She's- she's obnoxious and  _crabby_  and didn't do  _any_  work this lesson. I'm probably going to end up doing the entire project by myself."

Finn frowned, "Who're we talking about?"

"Marceline," Bonnie scowled at the name, "She's so-  _ugh_. I can't stand her."

"You have to work with her on a project?" Finn asked, slowly catching up to her. "That sucks. Jake had to work with her one time. Apparently she just sat there and texted people."

Bonnibel's expression darkened further and she shook her head. "No, I won't stand for that. I don't let anyone ride on my coattails in projects. I'm not doing all the work."

Finn shrugged, "Well, I don't know. She's kind of impossible."

" _Kind of_?" Bonnie shook her head. Marceline was  _more_  than impossible. "You know what? I-"

She paused again, pulling her phone from her pocket. Finn wasn't very good for advice, so she'd talk to someone else. Someone that wouldn't judge her for being angry. Someone that physically  _couldn't_  judge her.

_**Bonnie (11:10AM): Hey. It's me again. If I'm bothering you, just tell me, but I need some advice.** _

She slid her phone into her pocket, hoping that her anonymous friend would reply soon. She was getting an ache in her temples as she thought about the impending project with Marceline. Still, she was going to be stubborn. If Marceline was obnoxious to her, she'd be obnoxious back.

Luckily, her phone vibrated as Lady sat down across from her. She pulled it out of her pocket to read the text.

_**Unknown (11:11AM): you're not bothering me. shoot. :)** _

That was reassuring. Anonymous was her friend and wasn't annoyed by her. Bonnie had been contemplating texting them for a little while now, so it was good to know that she was able to ask for advice when she needed it.

_**Bonnie (11:11AM): That's good to know. Basically, I'm doing this project in a class and my partner is kind of a jerk** _ _**. How to I deal with them? I feel like I'm going to end up doing all of the work and it sucks when that happens.** _

She tucked her phone back into her pocket and turned to Lady, "Hey. How did your talk with Mr Abadeer go?"

"It didn't work. We can't partner up instead," Lady sent her a sympathetic smile, "Apparently he had 'reasoning' behind the pairs. I don't really know what that means."

" _Reasoning_?" Bonnie repeated and raised an eyebrow, "I thought he liked me. I don't get why he'd pair me with someone I don't like."

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it for the moment as she listed to Lady. "Maybe he thinks you'll be a good influence on her or something. He might not know you don't like her and thought you two would get along?"

 _He might not know you don't like her_. Now Bonnie was kind of regretting lying to him the other day. 'I'm sure she's just having a bad day'.  _Why_  had she excused Marceline's behaviour? That was probably why he'd stuck them together as well, because she was the only person in the class who had a neutral opinion on her as far as he knew.

But in reality, Bonnie had a far less than neutral opinion. Bonnie's opinion of Marceline was  _so_  negative. She was a lazy, bitchy, obnoxious punk who would probably make Bonnibel do all of the work for their project.

"If he wanted to give her a partner she'd get along with, he could've chosen Keila." Bonnie pointed out. "That would've made much more sense and– _ugh_ , you know what? I shouldn't stress about it. I shouldn't care."

She slid her phone from her pocket and checked her reply as Lady greeted Fionna and Marshall.

_**Unknown (11:12AM): don't give yourself a headache over it. if this partner is a dickhead to you, just try to ignore them. roll your eyes and show them that you don't care. either that or just pay me to beat them up. ;)** _

_**Bonnie (11:12AM): Ignoring them. Yes, that seems like a good plan. If I don't care, it doesn't fuel their hateful vendetta against me.** _

"Hey, Bonnie," She glanced up from her phone to meet Marshall's gaze, "How are you?"

"I'm okay," She replied carefully. Not mentioning how much she disliked his sister seemed to be the best plan of action. "Could be better, but today isn't as bad as it could've been. You?"

"I'm good." He flashed her a toothy grin, "So, there's this dance after the winter break, and-"

"Marshall!" He was cut off by a sandy haired boy, stood with Marceline and Keila. Keila craned her neck to look over the people crowded around the cafeteria table and flashed Bonnie a smile. Marceline payed her no attention and kept her eyes glued to her phone. "Dude, we need you. It's an in-prom…Marce, what's the word?"

Marceline didn't look up from her phone as she replied. "Impromptu."

"Yeah, that," The boy nodded, "Band practice, basically. Bongo's waiting in the music room for us."

"I-" Marshall looked around the table and his eyes landed on Bonnie. He sent her a sympathetic look and then smiled. "Yeah, okay. I'll talk to you guys later?"

Everyone at the table collectively nodded, so Marshall made his departure with his friends. Bonnie watched after them, until the quartet vanished through the cafeteria doors, continuing their trek to the music room.

She looked back to her phone to see she'd received another message.

_**Unknown (11:13AM): i doubt they have a 'hateful vendetta'. you seem really sweet. they're probably just the classic high school asshole. ignore them and they give up. hope that helped. :)** _

_**Bonnie (11:14AM): It did. Thanks, Unknown. You're a good friend.** _

She tucked her phone back into her pocket with a smile.

If ignoring Marceline was something she'd have to do, then she'd do it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Marceline drives Bonnie home.

Bonnibel shivered and rubbed her palms together quickly in a futile attempt at warming herself up. She shuffled where she was sat, perched on a cold and uncomfortable wall, and tugged her sleeves over her fingers, balling her hands into fists. Her body shook with another shiver, the wind's icy breath making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Shakily, she let out a soft sigh, her breath coming out in a puff of smoke, and she leaned over and crossed her arms over herself. Penguins huddled together for warmth, and although Bonnie wasn't a penguin and didn't have anyone to huddle with, she could still attempt at closing herself up in an effort to keep the cold out.

The temperature was in the minuses, and Peter couldn't pick her up until five. So, Bonnie had resolved to wait outside of the train station for forty-five minutes.

(Probably not her best plan ever.)

She huffed again, tugging the hood of her pink sweater over her head in an attempt to keep her ears warm. She could've sworn it hadn't been this cold earlier when she'd left the house with Jake and Lady. It was probably an idiotic move to leave the house without a coat on Christmas Eve, but in her defence, she'd checked her weather app and that had told her she'd be fine.

Stupid apps.

Bonnie kept her hands balled into fists and thought back to how Jake had offered her a ride home. Regretting her decision to call Peter and save Jake the hassle, she gritted her teeth and decided that she was going to stick it out. She could handle another forty-five minutes.

In a final act of desperation, she emptied her pocket for some change to use for a bus ride home, but all she found was a quarter, a pen and a piece of scrap paper with a small shopping list scrawled on it. Nothing she could pay for the bus with.

Sure, she could walk home, but that would take her nearly an hour and it was already dark. Walking home alone in the dark? Not her thing. She was still kind of shaky with her orienteering around town, and she'd rather not get lost on Christmas Eve and freeze to death. Not how she wanted to go at all.

Bonnie kept her gaze trained towards her feet and avoided any passing looks from strangers. Loitering outside of a train station probably made her look a little weird, but if anyone asked, she'd tell them she was waiting for someone. A distant relative, or something of the sort.

Either way, when she heard a scuffling in front of her, her head snapped up to look at the person who was approaching her. Maybe Finn, Phoebe or Elle. Someone she hadn't seen go home already.

It was Marceline.

Bonnibel blinked up at her company. Marceline had stopped in front of her and was staring down at her, apparently wanting something. Why else would she stop?

"Uh," Bonnie cleared her throat and hunched her shoulders to stay warm, "can I help you?"

"Why are you sitting there?" Marceline folded her arms across her chest in an effort to maintain her intimidating persona. It was mitigated when she crossed one leg over the other in a casual stance. "It's Christmas Eve. Shouldn't you be off with your friends or…family or whatever?"

"I was with my friends," Bonnie replied quietly, "They all went home and my uncle can't pick me up until five. That's why I'm waiting here. Shouldn't _you_ be with your family, too?"

"I only just finished work." Marceline told her, but it was hurried, like the information was irrelevant. "Aren't you cold? You're not wearing a coat."

Bonnie wasn't about to admit that she purposely left it at home. Not to _Marceline_ of all people. "Yeah, I…forgot it."

Marceline blinked at her. "It's _December_."

Bonnibel shook her head. Were they having a civil conversation for once? But they didn't like each other. Weird. In fact, it was so weird that Bonnie wanted to know what was up. Small talk wasn't her area of expertise.

She cleared her throat. "Yeah, whatever. Why are you even talking to me?"

Marceline sighed, "Look, I don't like you-"

"Wow, thanks for the reminder," Bonnie interrupted, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten from the last time you told me."

Marceline sent her a scathing look that read something along the lines of _shut the hell up_. Bonnie was happy to oblige. "Yeah, well, whatever. I don't like you, you don't like me, but it's Christmas Eve and you're freezing."

"Your point?" Bonnie raised an eyebrow, hoping she'd reach one soon. Either that, or she'd just leave her alone. Hopefully the latter.

"Do you-" Marceline paused and let out an irritated huff, like she was about to propose something she really didn't want to, "Would you like a ride?"

Bonnie blinked in surprise. "You're offering me a lift home?"

"Yeah," Marceline looked down at her feet and kicked at a little stone on the pavement, "if you want."

Bonnie weighed up the pros and cons. Pro: she'd get home early and could sit by the fire and watch Christmas specials before bed. Con: she'd have to spend an extended period of time with Marceline. Pro: she wouldn't freeze. Con: she'd have to spend an extended period of time with Marceline. Alone. In a car.

She decided that freezing to death was probably a worse fate than spending time with Marceline, so eventually, she nodded. "Yeah. Alright then. Thank you."

Marceline bowed her head in acknowledgement and began walking to her left, so Bonnie stood up and stuffed her hands in her pocket. Keeping a respectable distance between herself and Marceline, she trailed behind the other girl, down the road and around twenty feet away from the train station. Marceline stopped suddenly, so Bonnie carefully approached her.

Bonnibel frowned down at the black car in front of her. It was polished, shiny, and looked like someone had been looking after it a lot. Bonnie found it hard to believe that Marceline would care for something like that, though.

Maybe it was because she owned an honest to god _Mercedes._

"Why do you have-" Bonnie stopped herself from saying 'such an expensive car'. "Your car is really nice."

"Thanks," Marceline seemed to sense the end of the question she'd nearly asked, "It was my dad's. He got a new car and gave this one to me for my birthday. My brother can't drive, so…"

Bonnie wanted to ask why that last part was added. If she went by the implications, she would assume that Hunson may have given it to Marshall, had he been able to drive, but she figured that was unlikely. Why would Hunson favour one twin over the other?

"Oh, alright then," Bonnibel watched as Marceline skirted around the car to get into the driver's side, unsure if she should get in next to her or sit in the back. Distance seemed good, but Marceline shot her an odd look as she sat down, so Bonnie opened the door to the passenger side.

She sat down and fiddled with the drawstrings of her hoodie as Marceline started the car and put some music on. Bonnie wasn't exactly a fan of rock – she wasn't very widely versed when it came to music – but she kept her mouth shut. It wasn't her place, and she didn't doubt that Marceline wouldn't kick her out of the car if she complained.

"So, uh, you were working?" Bonnie awkwardly attempted conversation. "On Christmas Eve? That doesn't sound very fun."

Marceline frowned. Apparently she hadn't expected Bonnibel to make conversation. "Um…it wasn't so bad. I like being out of the house and I was working with Keila. We just…played on the guitars and hung out. Occasionally dealt with customers."

"Sounds like fun," Bonnie tried to keep her tone optimistic, "Keila's nice. How long have you two known each other?"

"Since elementary school." Marceline responded, "She moved here from California when we were in second grade. We were forced together by our teacher since neither of us had friends and we got along better than we thought we would."

"Oh, well," Bonnie tried to formulate a response, "maybe that's why she was so nice to me. She knows what it's like to be the new girl."

"Yeah, maybe," Marceline glanced over at her and looked her up and down, and Bonnie felt her stomach clench. She wasn't sure if she was just nervous because Marceline wasn't looking at the road, or if it was the judgement in the other girl's stare.

Either way, she didn't like it.

Bonnie was the one to break eye contact, coughing to clear her throat. She kept her gaze directed out of the window, at nothing in particular. "Uh, so, you mentioned you were playing on the guitars at the music shop. I didn't realise you played?"

It came out far too much like a question, and Bonnie knew that Marceline had picked up on every last little nervous tremor in her voice. Apparently she was attentive. Naturally.

"I play lots of things," Marceline answered her quietly, "but don't mention that to my dad."

Bonnibel's face sunk into a frown. Wouldn't Hunson already know about it? That was a little odd, but it's not like she was going to tell him anyway. She didn't doubt that Marceline would kick her teeth in if she said anything she didn't like.

"Alright," Bonnie uneasily responded, "Keila told me that she plays guitar."

"Yeah. In our band." Marceline told her. "I was the one that gave her the idea to learn, actually. I'd already played for a little while and said she should try it out."

"How…nice of you," Bonnie commented. She glanced around the car for something else to latch onto as a conversational topic, since all of her ideas were running out. There was _nothing_. She couldn't just pick up a water bottle and be like _hey, I drink that too, what a coincidence,_ so she resolved to keep her mouth shut and fiddled with the drawstrings of her hoodie.

Marceline occasionally broke the silence with a cough, but didn't make any attempts to chat. Apparently their earlier conversation hadn't been good enough advertisement of Bonnibel's few social skills. Maybe that would solidify their mutual avoidance policy, which had been put in place since they were forced to work together on that science project.

Their science project was another thing. Bonnie had done some work on it herself – she'd chosen the topic in class and written down their research question in both her own and Marceline's notebook, and instructed that the other girl do some work over the holidays.

Bonnie decided that she'd bring the project up, although she highly doubted that Marceline had done it. At least a slightly awkward conversation made the tension in the car a little bit thinner. Bonnie didn't like this awkward atmosphere at all.

"So, our science work," She announced the subject clearly to grab Marceline's attention, "have you done anything on it yourself? I have a detailed series of notes for us to work from."

"I- uh, I looked in the textbook on the topic you picked and wrote down some stuff, but I didn't really know what else to do." Marceline replied, her voice a lot quieter than Bonnie had expected. Her tone was empty, shameful, reserved. Admitting that she hadn't done much work was deserving of a quiet shame, in Bonnie's opinion.

Bonnibel huffed to show her irritation. People who didn't pull their weight in projects were horrible, but she hadn't expected much from her partner in the first place.

(Admittedly, she probably shouldn't have expected _anything_.)

"You know, that's very-" She cut herself off before she could launch into a full scale rant about how irresponsible and annoying it was that Marceline hadn't really done anything, but when she looked over, she shut her mouth immediately. Marceline actually looked _guilty_. "Um, it's not a big deal."

As if on cue, Marceline's face sunk into a frown. "What?"

"It's not a problem," Bonnie said. She couldn't bring herself to yell. She might've, if Marceline hadn't looked so guilty, like she actually felt _bad_ about what she'd done. Or hadn't done. "The project is in on the second Thursday back, isn't it?"

Although she already knew the answer, Marceline answered her question anyway. "Yeah."

Bonnie knew that what she'd suggest next wouldn't get a very good reaction. "Alright, well, we have another week and a half until we're back at school, so I propose that we meet up."

As expected, Marceline's previously neutral expressed soured, turning into an irritated scowl. The other girl bristled and shook her head. "Can't. Working."

"Every day?" Bonnie raised an eyebrow. She didn't believe that for a second. "It's our schoolwork. It's important that we meet. I'm not doing all of the work and you obviously don't know what you're doing."

Marceline huffed, "I don't want to spend any more time with you than I have to."

"Fine," Bonnibel sent the other girl her attempt at a glare. It probably didn't go down as well as she'd hoped. "I'm not giving you a choice in the matter then. I have your address since I'm friends with your brother, so I'll come over on the Saturday after next. I think that'll give us a sufficient amount of time to put together however much- or little –we've done on the project."

If it was possible for Marceline to bristle even more than she already had, she was. "I won't answer the door. I hope you know that."

"I'm sure Marshall wouldn't mind letting me in." Bonnibel countered, "You're doing the work. Even if I have to break into your house and tell your _dad_ that you won't do it."

It was a childish threat, something an eight year old would say to get their way over another eight year old, but it had the desired effect. Marceline scowled again, but this time it was accompanied with a loud and definitely exaggerated sigh. " _Ugh_ , god. I wish I'd been partnered with Keila. Not you. You're a pretentious, _prissy_ -"

"As much as I appreciate some good alliteration," Bonnie interrupted Marceline pre-rant, "I'd rather not keep arguing with you."

 _Honestly_ , one of these days, she was going to launch into her own rant about why she didn't want to work with Marceline.

(There were a lot of reasons, actually.)

But, Bonnie was mature. If she didn't like someone, she'd be reserved about it. Quiet. _Adult_. Clearly, Marceline didn't understand that once you're past the age of twelve, you were supposed to be polite to people. Even if you didn't like them. Dealing with someone who obviously wasn't intelligent enough to avoid conflict wasn't something that Bonnie liked doing at all, but she had to. And she wouldn't lash out.

Unlike her partner, she actually had more than three brain cells.

Bonnibel kept her mouth shut for the rest of the drive, but cast glances over at Marceline on regular intervals. The other girl kept an irritated scowl on her face, probably to convey how much she regretted offering Bonnibel a lift home.

Both of them were relieved when Marceline pulled up outside Bonnibel's house. In fact, Marceline breathed an audible sigh of relief, which Bonnie tried not to take personally.

Keeping up her polite façade for the moment, Bonnie sent Marceline an awkward, forced smile. "Uh, thanks for the lift. I owe you one."

Marceline shook her head. "You don't owe me anything. It's Christmas."

"Still, it was nice of you to do," Bonnie unbuckled her seatbelt and clambered out of the car. She leaned down to look at Marceline, the door half-closed, "I'll bring a chocolate bar with me when we meet up in thanks."

Marceline opened her mouth, probably to object, but Bonnibel closed the door before she could speak. Then, she spun on her heels, aware of Marceline watching her, and walked up to her porch.

Although she'd never admit it to anyone, Marceline waited until Bonnibel was in safely before she drove away.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bonnie spends New Year's Eve alone. Mostly.

Bonnibel's fingers ran over the cold screen of her dormant phone as she stretched out on the couch. Her friends hadn't texted her all night, and it was New Year's Eve. She'd assume that she'd get a text from one of them, right? Even just a simple one, wishing her a happy New Year. In fact, she hadn't seen them for most of the Christmas holidays, aside from their meetup in town for last minute shopping on Christmas Eve.

It was kind of…upsetting? Thinking about how her friends were probably together, either at a party or merely hanging out at one of their houses wasn't a good thing. It wasn't nice to think about how she'd been either forgotten about or cast out of plans. She knew she could be kind of socially awkward at times, but it would've been lovely if they'd asked her.

She glanced down at her phone again, just in case another text had come through and she didn't notice. Nope, nothing. Just her lock screen staring back at her, unchanged.

Sighing, Bonnibel reached over to the coffee table and switched the television off. The screen turned black and she smiled in satisfaction, picking up her laptop. She planned on scrolling through Facebook and laughing at ridiculous posts about how her classmates back home had celebrated the New Year. Maybe she'd talk to Bubba, if he was still awake.

She opened up her browser and clicked on the Facebook icon in her bookmarks. If she was being honest, she didn't check social media very often. It usually only came down to boredom, which would be expected, considering she was spending New Year's alone.

It was nice to look at statuses from old classmates, and she sent Bubba a message in the hopes of a reply – maybe he'd be good company – but it was past 1AM back at home, so she doubted she'd get a response.

She noted that she had a few friend requests and clicked on the tab to look at them. Marshall, Keila, and Lady and her group had added her. She accepted them all and frowned at the 'people you may know' that came up soon afterwards. She sent a friend request to the first two people on the list – Elle and Phoebe – and then blinked in surprise when it suggested Marceline.

She clicked on the other girl's name and wasn't surprised when her page was completely unrestricted. Naturally, Marceline would leave all of her information out there for anyone to look at. Out of mere curiosity, Bonnibel clicked down on the 'about' section, scrolling past her hometown and school, pausing only for a moment when she noted something else.

According to Marceline's Facebook page, she was in a relationship with a boy named Ash.

She squinted at the boy's profile picture, but didn't bother clicking on his profile. He looked like a delinquent, the kind of guy who would drop out of school to pursue a career in smoking marijuana and soaking up government benefits.

(Why wasn't she surprised that he was Marceline's boyfriend?)

She clicked the 'back' button and then proceeded to scroll down Marceline's profile. She didn't post much – it was mostly just music videos that Keila had forwarded on her page, or photographs she'd been tagged in – and it wasn't long before Bonnie was a few years deep. How the hell had that happened?

She quickly scrolled to the top again, finding nothing interesting aside from the other girl's birthday, which was apparently on October 31st, and the fact that she was seventeen, unlike most people in their grade. Bonnibel wasn't seventeen until May.

She frowned at Marceline's profile picture. It was a selfie, but she wasn't smiling, and naturally she was in the darkest clothes possible. Bonnie clicked through a few others, but still no smiles. Even in the ones with her apparent boyfriend.

Bonnibel clicked through a few more, blinking in confusion at a particular image. It was from 2014 on Marceline's birthday, with the caption ' _she made me put this as my profile pic'_. The picture was of her and Keila, Marceline's arms wrapped around her best friend and she was actually _smiling_. It wasn't just a smile, like how most people forced happy faces in their pictures, it was actually genuine, the other girl's green eyes lit up with happiness. Everyone deserved to be happy and have that moment captured, even if it was in a forgotten profile picture from a little over a year ago.

Quickly, she shook her head and clicked off. She didn't like Marceline, so she shouldn't be virtually _stalking_ her. That would be weird. Even if virtual stalking was socially acceptable, Marceline's profile wasn't the one she should be scrolling down.

She left her Facebook open for a few moments in the hopes of a response from Bubba, but she didn't get one. It wasn't a surprise. Considering it was twenty past one in the morning and all. Even for New Year's, most people went to sleep by then.

(At least, she did.)

Looking back to her phone, she hoped that she'd had a message from someone. With Peter out and Bubba asleep, it'd be nice not to spend New Year's Eve in complete solitude. But, there was still nothing. It was kind of sad, but she tried not to let that bother her. It wasn't like she hadn't spent a holiday alone before.

Instead of waiting for a message from her friends, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Of course, she wasn't planning on inviting herself to whatever gathering her friends were having. Virtual communication was enough.

_**Bonnie (8:23PM): Hey! I don't know if you'll get this considering that it's New Year's Eve and you're probably out partying with friends and/or drunk, but I hope you have a nice night. :)** _

She locked her phone and stretched out on the couch, hoisting her laptop back onto her stomach. If her real friends weren't calling her, maybe it'd be a good idea to see some fictional ones.

Besides, an Orphan Black rewatch in her onesie sounded just _fine_.

* * *

Marceline's face sunk into a frown as her eyes rested on Keila. Her best friend was drunk, naturally, and talking to a boy that she'd never seen before. That seemed like the typical party routine, as of late. Keila would drink a little too much of the available orange punch – which actually turned out to be screwdriver – and then talk to a random attractive person while Marceline hung around and watched. It was becoming tiresome, the same routine over and over again. That was kind of odd, too; Marceline _hated_ change, and yet she wanted it?

Maybe she was a little drunk, as well.

Her gaze lifted from Keila and onto the excitable blond boy that hung around with the prissy princess and her band of nerds. She was surprised when she'd seen that group walk through the door, as parties like this had never seemed like their kind of thing, but they were fun to watch. The blond boy was clearly a little tipsy, even though he'd only had one cup of punch, and he was amusing enough that even his girlfriend was laughing at him.

Marceline tensed when an arm wrapped around her waist.

"Hey, babe," She rolled her eyes when Ash spoke, "Why don't we get out of here, yeah? I'll drive."

"You're drunk." She turned to him with a scowl. Marceline always had to be in a good mood when dealing with Ash, except that was the problem. Good moods didn't happen to her that often. "Drunk driving is kind of illegal. Actually, you being drunk right now is kind of illegal. You're not twenty-one."

"Might as well be," He replied, "Only got six months to go. _So_ , let's leave."

"I'm not going to let you drive while you're drunk. Most importantly, I'm not getting in a car with you while you're drunk." Marceline shifted out of his grip to emphasise that. "I don't particularly want to die."

He grabbed onto her arm, squeezing on a particularly sore spot. "You're coming with me. I took you back because you _promised_ you'd-"

"Fuck _off_ , Ash," Marceline yanked her arm from his grip, "I have to stay here. I need to drive Keila home later."

"You're ditching your _boyfriend_ for that slut?" He glowered down at her and she tried to ignore it. Arguing with him wasn't worth it. She tried to convince herself that he wouldn't say that sober. "You're supposed to prioritise me."

"You're being a drunken asshole." Marceline spun on her heels and looked over to Keila. "Don't say things like that about my best friend, okay? She's-"

Marceline stopped herself before she said something she'd regret. She was good at that.

Unfortunately, Ash noticed her little slip-up. "She's _what?_ Better than me?"

"She's my best friend. I've known her since second grade. I can't just ditch her." Marceline reworded what she'd been thinking. "I promised her I'd give her a ride and I have to keep an eye on her. You know how she gets when she's drunk."

"That's her own fault," Ash snapped back, "If the stupid bitch gets herself drunk, she's her own responsibility. Not yours."

Marceline scowled as his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back for a kiss. "Ash, seriously. Let go of me."

He laughed and attached his lips to her collarbone. "Come on, Marce, lighten up."

"How about you _sober up_?" Marceline shoved him off and stalked away before he could say anything else. She really wasn't in the mood for dealing with her jerky boyfriend right now. It was barely even 9PM.

Sometimes she could hardly remember why she was with Ash in the first place. It wasn't like he was nice to her. He didn't look after her when she was sick or buy her presents. But he _did_ agree with her when it came down to the morons at her school, and he'd never ratted her out for a prank before. Besides, he wasn't as bad when he was sober.

She managed to get out of his sight before he came after her and distracted herself by playing on her phone. She was kind of surprised to see that she had a text; all of her friends were at this party, and nobody else texted her, unless her dad wanted something.

She beamed when she saw the name on the screen. _Mystery book saviour._

Apparently not all of her friends were at the party after all.

_**Mystery book saviour (8:23PM): Hey! I don't know if you'll get this considering that it's New Year's Eve and you're probably out partying with friends or drunk, but I hope you have a nice night. :)** _

It was refreshing to get texts like that. Nobody sent her anything unless they had some sort of motive behind it or incentive, but her anonymous friend was just…really sweet.

Of course, she knew that if her friend found out who she was, they'd probably go running for the hills. Marceline didn't exactly have a reputation for going around giving out free hugs and candy; her reputation was more along the lines of _beats people up._ Not that she actually did that, but whatever.

Anonymity was awesome.

_**Marceline (8:47PM): not drunk, but I am at a party** _

_**Marceline (8:47PM): what're you doing** _

Making conversation seemed like the best idea. Better than hanging around with a drunken Ash, anyway. Even when he was sober, Ash could never think of a conversational topic that wasn't about himself.

Marceline added his narcissism to the list of reasons why he was an asshole.

_**Mystery book saviour (8:48PM): Nothing at all. My friends aren't doing anything as far as I know, so I'm rewatching Orphan Black. How's your party?** _

Marceline looked up from her phone and scanned over the room she was in. Nothing interesting was happening aside from a game of spin the bottle, something she didn't want to participate in at all. She automatically kept away from things like that. She didn't want to magically end up with an STI through a game of seven minutes in heaven.

She was surprised she hadn't caught one just by being in the same _room_ as these people.

_**Marceline (8:50PM): it's lame** _

_**Marceline (8:50PM): which season of orphan black are you watching** _

Talking about television shows seemed marginally better than talking about the party, in Marceline's opinion. Maybe her and her unidentified friend would bond over a mutual love for a show.

(Because _seriously_ , Marceline watched too many shows.)

_**Mystery book saviour (8:52PM): The third one. Alison's drug business is really taking off.** _

Marceline pushed past some wannabee frat-boy and made her way upstairs in the hopes of finding somewhere quiet to sit and text her friend. Loud, irritatingly tinny pop music really wasn't her thing.

She found an empty bedroom – presumably a guest room of some sort – and flopped down on the bed, bringing her phone up to her torso to respond.

_**Marceline (8:55PM): season three was god's gift** _

_**Marceline (8:55PM): alison hendrix's drug business was my favourite part** _

_**Marceline (8:55PM): that and when helena pretended to be alison and actually did it better than cosima** _

Marceline started to wonder if she was coming on a little too strong, but it wasn't every day that she made an anonymous friend over text messaging. And for the first time, she wasn't mad at Keila for writing her number down in a library book as a prank.

_**Mystery book saviour (8:57PM): I loved that! Who's your favourite clone? Mine's Cosima, for obvious reasons. Her pretending to be Alison was hilarious! Don't forget Helena calling Donnie 'baby ox'.** _

_**Marceline (8:58PM): alison is probably my favourite** _

_**Marceline (8:58PM): and why is cosima the 'obvious' one for you? are you into lady lovin' as well, huh? (if you're a lady yourself) ;)** _

Hopefully they'd take that as a joke. Marceline was all too aware about how her sarcasm didn't translate well over the internet. Multiple past experiences proved how much there needed to be a separate font for sarcasm, just to make things extra clear.

_**Mystery book saviour (9:00PM): Haha, no, Cosima's a scientist and so am I. That's why she's the obvious one. Not that there's anything wrong with being a lesbian, obviously I'm fully supportive of that and I think that her and Delphine are really cute together. And Shay, for that matter.** _

_**Mystery book saviour (9:00PM): Although, I do prefer Cophine. Delphine is probably my favourite character out of all of them. She's so cool.** _

Marceline frowned down at the screen. That first message had seemed a little too defensive to her. The rambling tone of it had given it away.

_**Marceline (9:01PM): you sure about that?** _

_**Mystery book saviour (9:01PM): Positive.** _

That reply came through before Marceline had the chance to lock her phone or switch apps. Although, being bisexual, Marceline liked to annoy straight girls, and mystery book saviour seemed like the perfect candidate for her teasing.

_**Marceline (9:03PM): as a lesbian…supporter** _

_**Mystery book saviour (9:04PM): Shut up. ;)** _

Marceline actually smiled at her friend's response. She never really did that – not unless Keila sent her an unexpectedly funny picture in their conversation – so it was refreshing. It was weird how you could make friends with someone over technology.

Actually, Marceline thought that it was _better_ to meet someone through a screen than in real life. Automatic judgement wasn't really a thing online.

_**Mystery book saviour (9:08PM): I didn't mean that...come back. Please?** _

_**Marceline (9:08PM): ugh, fine, since you asked so nicely** _

(Hopefully that sarcasm would translate as well as the last batch had.)

_**Mystery book saviour (9:09PM): You make it sound like talking to me is a chore. I'll have you know that I'm wonderfully bubbly in really life.** _

_**Marceline (9:09PM): sounds traumatic** _

_**Mystery book saviour (9:10PM): I'm a joy to be around, thank you very much. Cosima Niehaus much appreciates my presence right now.** _

_**Marceline (9:11PM): yeah? why don't you go marry her then?** _

_Yes_ , Marceline knew how childish and dorky that last response was. It was intended. She was anonymous, and that was the whole point. It was okay to be herself when the other person didn't know.

_**Mystery book saviour (9:12PM): Right, so I've deduced that I'm talking to a five year old. How did you get a phone, sweetie? I think you should give that back to your parents now. Playtime is over, go and take a nap.** _

And there she goes again, cracking another smile at something sent over text. Two smiles in the span of eight minutes? Her friend must be some sort of miracle worker. Or a witch.

She was going to go with witch.

_**Marceline (9:13PM): hahaha you're soooooo funny** _

_**Mystery book saviour (9:13PM): Thanks, honey. I pride myself on my child-friendly comedic abilities.** _

_**Marceline (9:14PM): I'm probably older than you so shush. I bet you're like 12** _

_**Mystery book saviour (9:14PM): Sixteen, actually. Much older than your five years.** _

Marceline concocted yet another childish response in the space of two seconds. She was on some sort of roll tonight.

_**Marceline (9:15PM): hah I'm seventeen** _

_**Marceline (9:15PM): respect your elders, mystery book saviour** _

_**Mystery book saviour (9:16PM): You're hardly my elder. For all I know, you turned seventeen yesterday. Either that or you're a liar.** _

Marceline smiled again. Her friend had a point, actually.

(Not that she was about to admit that.)

_**Marceline (9:16PM): for all you know, I'm turning eighteen tomorrow** _

_**Mystery book saviour (9:17PM): Well, are you?** _

_**Marceline (9:17PM): ….no.** _

_**Mystery book saviour (9:18PM): Thought as much.** _

An anonymous friend was great. An anonymous friend who was good with dry banter and sarcasm? Even better. Considering that when she was first contacted by this person – this _girl_ – she'd planned on ignoring any other advances, this was a positive sign.

Marceline decided she'd keep this girl around.

There was no harm in making another friend, was there?


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bonnie and Marceline meet up to study and it doesn't exactly go well.

Marceline rolled over in her bed, blindly patting her nightstand in search of her phone. She knocked a few things off while she was at it – mostly just empty soda cans and irrelevant papers she'd dumped on there – and finally, her hand came in contact with the cold device.

She pulled the charger out so she could roll over again and snuggle back down where she'd been laying most of the night. The sheets were warm and the pillow was _just_ right, which was why she always stuck to the right side of the bed. She didn't particularly know why she liked being near a wall, but she'd always stayed near there.

She pressed the home button on her phone and frowned at the time. 11:17AM. _Fantastic_.

Pushing her messy onyx locks from her face, she glanced around her room and eventually ended up looking at the door. She was aware that she should probably get up and get some breakfast, but she knew that her dad would be lurking in the kitchen.

(An argument about how late she was waking up? No thanks.)

Instead, she pushed herself up from her bed and headed over to her dresser, brushing her hair as best as she could. She wouldn't have time to shower – another reason why her mood had already turned sour – so she pulled her hair back into a messy bun and shrugged off her pyjamas in favour of a blue and white flannel shirt and a pair of skinny jeans.

Then, she flopped back on her bed and grabbed her phone. The only kind of human interaction she could deal with right now was non-physical.

_**Marceline (11:26AM): hey** _

_**Marceline (11:27AM): any advice for dealing with a pretentious dickhead when you've only just woken up?** _

That was a question she desperately needed answering, because _today_ , Bonnibel was coming over so they could work on their science project. The princess would be expected in half an hour, and Marceline honestly couldn't care less about a project for her dad's class.

She didn't like science and she wasn't good at it. What was the point in trying? Obviously, she'd do it – there was no contest between homework and her father's wrath – but she never put any actual effort into it.

She had a feeling that the prissy princess would make her try. She really wasn't in the mood.

Marceline pushed open her bedroom door and slid her phone into her pocket, her footfalls as light as they possibly could be. Alerting her dad of her presence wasn't a smart move. She quickly ducked into the bathroom when she saw him at the bottom of the stairs, fiddling with his car keys.

 _Good_ , Marceline thought, _means he's going somewhere_.

But that also meant she'd be alone in the house with Bonnibel. Nobody to stop her from giving her a black eye if she was as annoying as usual.

(Of course she wouldn't actually do that, but Bonnie was incredibly irritating.)

She waited until she heard the front door close and her dad's car come to life in the driveway before venturing downstairs. She checked Marshall's room on the way, but apparently he was already out. Probably hanging with Guy or something.

She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a bowl of cereal, eating it at kitchen table in solitude. It was peaceful, having the house to herself. She could blast any music she wanted, have brownies for every single meal, or be in complete control of the remote control.

One thing Marceline didn't like about being home alone, was how there wasn't anything around to distract her from her thoughts. And usually, her brain wandered down a rabbit hole and she ended up imagining horrific scenarios of something happening to Keila, or her brother, or her friends. Maybe even her dad, at a push.

Today's topic was even more traumatising than that.

Naturally, her brain thought, _hey, Marce, how's about we think about Bonnibel_ , and brought the strawberry blonde nerd straight to the front of her mind, inducing a painful headache. Even thinking about that girl caused Marceline's temples to burn, but she wasn't sure if it was frustration or anger or _what_.

Thankfully, her phone buzzed before she her mind could go in depth on its chosen topic. Fabulous.

_**Mystery book saviour (11:42AM): Violent or non-violent methods?** _

She knew the text was sarcastic, and she smiled down at it thinly, as though her friend would see her doing it.

_**Marceline (11:43AM): I'm deathly serious** _

_**Marceline (11:44AM): anything will help** _

She locked her phone and placed it on the counter, her mind wandering again. _Bonnibel_ , it taunted her, _she's coming here now. What're you going to do about it?_

Marceline scowled. Then and there, she decided that she'd be as uncooperative as she possibly could, because she didn't want Bonnibel thinking that it was _okay_ to talk back to her. Everyone else knew that, so why did Bonnibel insist on being such an irritable, prim, conceited little-

Her phone cut off that train of thought.

_**Mystery book saviour (11:46AM): Okay, here's the plan – you change your name, get a face transplant and move to Mexico.** _

_**Mystery book saviour (11:47AM): Or, alternatively, you could pretend that you had an accident and somehow have amnesia and you can't remember anything, so they can't hold anything against you because you won't even know your own name.** _

_**Mystery book saviour (11:47AM): Personally, I think Mexico is the best option. They won't be able to find you, but with the amnesia story, they'll be waiting for you to recover.** _

Marceline had to laugh at that. It was weird, how some girl she didn't even know could lighten her mood as well as mystery book saviour did. Even if Marceline had been genuinely serious in asking for advice, she appreciated the comedy.

_**Marceline (11:49AM): definitely going to go with the first plan** _

_**Marceline (11:50AM): I'll text you when I'm across the border ;)** _

_**Mystery book saviour (11:51AM): Fabulous. :)** _

Marceline didn't bother replying after that, so she set her phone down on the counter and tried to wipe the smile from her face. She didn't manage very well.

At least until there were three concise knocks on the door. _God,_ even her knocking was annoying.

As she pushed herself up from the counter to answer the door, only one thought ran through Marceline's mind.

_This is going to be a long day._

* * *

"What are you doing?" Bonnibel craned her neck and glanced over Marceline's shoulder. "I told you to research almost an _hour_ ago and you still haven't written anything down in your notebook."

Marceline grunted in response, trying to be as unhelpful as she possibly could. She held her phone at the right angle so Bonnibel couldn't see the screen from where she was sat, and continued playing her game of Card Wars against Keila.

Unfortunately, Bonnie didn't take a simple roll of the eyes and a nod of acknowledgement as a good answer. Of course she wouldn't.

"You're _supposed_ to be researching!" Bonnibel folded her arms across her chest and sent Marceline the best scowl she could muster. "There's no way in _hell_ that I'm doing all of this work. It's a partner project, Marceline."

"Whatever," was all Marceline bothered to contribute.

Apparently, Bonnibel wasn't done. "No, it's _not_ whatever," she sucked in a deep breath and Marceline rolled her eyes. A full scale rant wasn't something she wanted to happen. Listening to Bonnibel's voice was irritating enough. "It's- this is your _future_ , Marceline. If you don't get your butt in gear, I'll tell your dad how unhelpful you were with this. Then you'll care."

Ignoring Bonnibel's threat – which Marceline hoped was empty – she rolled her eyes yet again like it was an automatic function. "Wow, the princess just said _butt_. Better wash your mouth out, you don't want your mommy hearing that kind of vulgarity."

Although Marceline was usually oblivious to other people's feelings, and even when she wasn't, she didn't particularly _care_ , the way Bonnibel shut down was enough to leave a tiny little crack in the perfectly welded shell she'd crafted around herself. The usually animated nerd went quiet pre-rant, and she seemed a little too out of character as she slumped down in her seat.

Bonnibel fiddled with her pink gel pen and finally looked up to Marceline, her innocent blue eyes sparkling. "Um, I- we should… where's your bathroom?"

"Down the hall, first door on your left," Marceline frowned as Bonnibel stood up and let out a shaky breath, "uh, are you alright?"

" _Fine_ ," Bonnie was far too quick to respond, waving a giant red flag. Marceline struck and nerve and she knew it. She watched as Bonnie awkwardly gestured in the direction of the door. "Yeah, I'm just- uh, going to- I'll be right back."

Marceline watched with a frown as Bonnibel scurried out of the living room. Why did her stomach feel so heavy? She felt so…icky. It wasn't like she cared about Bonnibel at _all_ – in fact, she'd planned on annoying her until she left – so why did she feel so weird?

Marceline shook her head and turned back to her game. Whatever Bonnie was doing in the bathroom wasn't her problem. They weren't friends and she didn't plan on apologising for whatever it was that had set Bonnie off.

She pushed herself up from the couch and rolled her eyes at the blank notebook on the coffee table. Then she glanced over at Bonnibel's, full of notes and complicated sentences, half of which Marceline didn't understand. There was that weird feeling again.

But it _wasn't_ guilt. Marceline didn't feel guilty.

She slipped into the kitchen and busied herself with making cocoa. Just to get her mind off things, of course.

She'd just finished making it when she heard soft footsteps behind her, and a quiet voice. "I think I'm going to head home."

Marceline spun on her heels to look at Bonnibel. The other girl's makeup was smudged all of a sudden, her mascara tracing black lines down her cheeks. The whites of her eyes had turned a subtle red, a sign that she'd been crying, and Bonnibel's hands were shaking as she fiddled with her overly-round glasses.

"I thought you wanted to get everything done today." Marceline picked at her fingernails in an effort to show how much she didn't care. "We're only like, halfway through the project."

Bonnie rubbed at her eyes with her left hand and then slid her glasses back onto her face. "Um, yeah, but I kind of- I don't really want to. I think I should take a break."

Marceline sighed and glanced down at her drink. Maybe a tiny act of kindness would make that gnawing feeling in her stomach subside.

She extended the mug in Bonnie's direction. "Here. Cocoa usually helps when you're upset."

"I- I'm not upset," Bonnibel obviously needed to brush up on her lying skills, "I just had something in my eye."

Marceline rolled her eyes and waited for Bonnibel to take the drink. "Go on, take it. I swear I didn't poison it, alright?"

Bonnie eyed the mug suspiciously, but slowly took it from Marceline's grip and sipped on it. "Oh. That's nice. Thank you."

"Don't mention it." Marceline skirted around Bonnibel to make her way into the front room again. "Seriously, don't mention it to anyone."

Marceline's stomach jumped when she heard a soft laugh. It was weak, but there. "Okay, I won't."

Marceline tried to ignore the other girl as she flopped back down on the couch and grabbed the TV remote. Switching it on, she flicked through the channels until she found something decent; _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ reruns. Awesome.

"Wait, no, we need to finish this," Bonnie gestured over at the papers on the coffee table. "We'll only have two weeks to finish it if we don't get it done now."

Marceline scanned her over. "Uh, no. Shut up and drink your cocoa."

"Don't tell me what to do," Bonnibel shuffled backwards after that was blurted out and glanced down at her feet. "And it's a _hot chocolate_ , actually."

"Yeah, whatever," Marceline rolled her eyes, "It isn't, but I'm sure the queen would be happy that the Princess of England is defending the honour of British English."

"You're so annoying," Bonnibel muttered, "Stop calling me a princess. I'm _hardly_ a princess."

"You talk like one. You're all," Marceline paused to mimic Bonnibel's accent, "oh, look at me, I'm so posh. Would you like to have a spot of tea and some crumpets, old chap?"

Bonnibel scoffed, "I've never said 'old chap' in my entire sixteen years of living, thank you very much. And I don't even _like_ crumpets."

Marceline snorted with laughter, and she didn't miss the little look of surprise that crossed Bonnibel's face as she sipped on her cocoa – no, _hot chocolate_. "Whatever, you still sound posh. Where were you from, Downton Abbey?"

" _No_ , I was born just on the outskirts of London and I lived there for a few years until moving to York when I was thirteen, which is up north in Yorkshire." Bonnibel folded her arms across her chest. "There are people posher than me."

"Posh _er_?" Marceline raised an eyebrow. "So you admit that you're posh?"

"I'm _not_ posh," Bonnie let out an exasperated sigh and leaned forwards to grab her notebook, "But we're getting off topic and I would like to finish this science work so I don't have to endure your company for much longer."

Marceline scowled again and brought her knees up to her chest. That hadn't bothered her at all, obviously. "You're no picnic either, princess."

" _Stop_ that," Bonnibel snapped at her. Apparently she'd forgotten about whatever had been bothering her before to go back to her shrill, bossy self. Oh _joy_. "Let's just get this done. _God_ , I can't believe I was paired with you."

"Likewise," Marceline sent Bonnie the most mocking scowl she could muster, "You think I wouldn't rather be working with Keila? Nobody gets this…high strung over a stupid science project."

" _I_ do," Bonnibel proved Marceline's point completely in a mere two words, " _I_ care about this project. And don't test me, Marceline. I _will_ tell your dad if you don't do anything, and even though he's your dad, I'm _sure_ he wouldn't hesitate to give you a detention."

"If you tell my dad _anything_ , I'll make sure that you go back to school next week with two matching black eyes." Marceline jabbed a finger into Bonnibel's sternum and felt that gnawing sensation when the other girl flinched. "Got that?"

Bonnibel blinked up at her, big blue eyes watering behind her round glasses. "Yes. Can you please stop touching me?"

Marceline sank back into her side of the couch and cracked her knuckles, more out of habit than because of anything else. It made Bonnie cringe though, so that was a plus. Irritating the girl was something she wanted to do - it was mildly amusing - but scaring her? No, Marceline wasn't that cruel.

Bonnibel cleared her throat again and sat up, staring down at her feet. "I really don't like you, Marceline."

Again, Marceline sent her a bitter, sarcastic smile. "The feeling is completely mutual."

" _But_ ," Bonnie started, adjusting her glasses out of some kind of habit, "I'll be civil. For the sake of this project. Once it's done, I don't want to talk to you, or have any kind of contact."

"Fine by me," Marceline snapped at her, picking up her phone again and pretending to type something into google. In reality, she was restarting her game of Card Wars with Keila.

She didn't care about Bonnibel at _all_. She didn't care what she thought, she didn't care if she was friends with her brother and she _certainly_ didn't care if she wanted to be her friend or not. She. Didn't. Care.

Obviously.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Keila is a little bit too nosey.

"I hate this," Finn slumped down into the seat next to Bonnie, "Coming back to school after winter break is so lame. We don't have anything to look forward to."

"We have spring break to look forward to," Jake pointed out to him, "but it'll be a while. March is three months away."

Finn huffed again. "Yeah, but the year basically sucks until summer, and then it sucks some more until Christmas."

"That's not a very optimistic outlook, Finn," Lady said to him, "It's surprising, coming from you. Usually you're the one spreading positivity and Jake is complaining."

"Maybe some Freaky Friday stuff has gone down and they've switched bodies," Elle looked up from her phone and squinted at Finn and Jake as if they were hiding something, "Better switch back before the Christmas dance."

Bonnibel blinked in confusion. That didn't make sense, and not the switching bodies part. "Christmas dance? Christmas was nearly three weeks ago."

"Yeah, but Principal Citron had to put off the winter dance because the caterer he always books couldn't make it." Elle explained. The disdainful way she talked about Principal Citron indicated that she hadn't been very happy with that decision. "He was going to just cancel the dance all together but then we protested. I'd already bought my dress, and like _hell_ was I going to waste it."

"Elle made everyone sign a petition. She was really persistent." Lady added and nodded over to Marceline's distant figure. "She even managed to make _Marceline_ sign it."

"That was probably one of my greatest victories last year." Elle smiled proudly, her phone a mild distraction; she didn't bother looking up from it as she spoke. "I told her I didn't care that she liked being cold and apathetic. I used her little 'rebel against authority' complex to get her to sign. Told her Citron wouldn't like it."

Bonnibel glanced over at Marceline, who was stood about ten feet away from them. She stood with Keila, Marshall and two other boys who Bonnibel didn't know the names of, but she didn't like the look of them. Marceline wasn't contributing much to their conversation, apparently, just nodding and shaking her head at the appropriate times.

Almost as if she came equipped with some sort of Bonnie sensor, Marceline looked up and sent Bonnibel one of her trademark glares.

Usually, Bonnie would've looked away in embarrassment, but instead she responded with the sickliest sweet smile she could muster, coupling it with an exaggerated wave.

Marceline rolled her eyes and made a rude gesture, smirking when it elicited the response she wanted from Bonnie; an offended look and a loud scoff. Not wanting to satisfy the other girl, Bonnibel quickly made herself appear impassive and emotionless, folding her arms across her chest.

She jumped when a cold hand rested on her shoulder.

Looking up, she sent Marshall a soft smile; she hadn't even noticed him walking over. "Hey. How're you?"

"I'm good. Did you have a nice winter break?" He sat down in the empty seat next to her, sending the rest of the group a smile and a nod in greeting. "I went to a crazy New Year's party. I told your friends to invite you but they were all too drunk and I don't have your number."

So her friends _had_ been doing something on New Year's Eve. It was only natural that she felt excluded, but parties weren't her thing, so it wasn't like she would've gone anyway.

Still, an invite would've been lovely.

"I watched Orphan Black reruns and texted a friend on New Year's Eve." Bonnie told him. Hopefully, he wouldn't ask who her friend was. Answering with _funny, I don't actually know myself_ probably wouldn't be a very good idea and would attract attention.

Also, he might know the number she'd been texting. As much as she liked guessing her friend's identity with herself to pass time, she didn't actually want to _know_. That would ruin the whole anonymity thing.

Thankfully, Marshall latched onto something else she'd said. "Orphan Black? My sister watches that. I don't like it that much."

 _Blasphemy_. That was the first word that went through Bonnie's mind. She resolved that she'd change his mind. Obviously, Marceline hadn't shown him the first episode or something. That could result in confusion.

(She was a little repulsed that she liked the same thing as _Marceline_ , but she tried to ignore that.)

"It's an awesome show. Humorous and suspenseful." Bonnie said. "You'd like it if you got into it. Clone drama is awesome."

"Nah, I think I'll stick with Marvel. Agents of Shield is my favourite show and Marceline isn't too into that. We have constant fights over the television remote." Marshall joked. He glanced down at his feet and Bonnibel noticed him playing with his fingers in nervousness as he continued. "So, are you going to the late winter dance?"

"I don't know." Bonnibel spoke up to address the rest of her friends, interrupting Finn and Jake's mini debate over Batman and Superman. "Are you all going to that dance you mentioned before?"

"Yeah, we're going as a group," Finn was the one to answer her with a wide smile, "Why, do you want to come?"

Bonnibel turned to look at Marshall again and shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess that's a yes. Are you going?"

"I was thinking about it. Maybe I will." He nodded to himself, but Bonnie couldn't help but notice a little disappointment in his tone. "Yeah, okay. I'll come with you guys in your group thing."

"Sounds good, man," Jake replied before Bonnie could, "Listen, we need a third opinion. Who do you think is cooler, Batman or Superman?"

Marshall rolled his eyes. "This is like Captain America vs Iron Man all over again."

Bonnibel tuned out as Marshall joined their argument, not caring who won the debate. Superheroes weren't her area of expertise. She'd seen _The Avengers_ , but only because Bubba had made her go to the cinema with him, and she really didn't understand any of it.

If she was being honest, she'd spent most of the movie marvelling over Scarlet Johannsson. Her character – Bonnie couldn't remember the name – was so _cool_. She was the only avenger who didn't have superpowers and she still managed to kick some serious butt. Bonnie had major respect.

Aside from that, she hadn't found any of the other characters interesting. Maybe if Scarlet Johannsson's character was given a solo movie, she'd go and see that. It had the potential to be very interesting.

"Hey, how was your Christmas?" Marshall nudged her again and she subtly shuffled away from him. "You never told me."

"It was fine. Peter and I watched Christmas specials and exchanged gifts which was nice, and I helped him cook a dinner. We nearly burned the turkey, though." Bonnibel thought back. It had been kind of a fiasco, cooking dinner. She was usually alright when it came to cooking, but they'd lost track of time while watching a film. "Christmas Eve was fairly uneventful, though."

"Same here. Marceline came home from work and stayed upstairs for most of the night, so I spent time with Dad. We just watched TV." Marshall recounted. "Christmas Day was basically the same. We opened presents in the morning and then ate dinner. Dad invited a few of his work friends over which was kind of awkward."

"Teachers?" Bonnie raised an eyebrow. It was awkward seeing teachers out of school – she knew from experience. Once, she'd gone out for a meal with Bubba and run into her old school's science department. They'd fussed over the two of them for far too long and then assumed that they were a couple and announced it multiple times during class.

"Yep," Marshall replied, popping the 'p'. "Obviously Marceline and I went up to my room and played on the PlayStation for a while. GTA is much better than forced conversations with Citron."

Bonnibel nodded, but kept quiet and waited for him to return to Finn and Jake's little debate. Then, she pulled her phone from her pocket and kept it close to her chest as she typed.

_**Bonnibel (11:04AM): Hey! I hope you had a really awesome winter break and that life is treating you well. Do anything interesting over the holidays?** _

She smiled, satisfied with her text, and kept her phone in her palm so she could answer it quickly when it buzzed. Since the conversation between her friends wasn't all that interesting, she might as well start her own with someone else.

_**Unknown (11:05AM): my holidays were boring. I didn't do much aside from hang with friends. you?** _

_**Bonnie (11:05AM): Basically the same thing, minus the hanging with friends. I didn't do much of that. Orphan Black rewatching for the win. Which lesson do you have next? ;)** _

Bonnibel read over her text after sending it. _Lesson_. Did Americans say that? Or did they just say _class_? She didn't want to give herself away, and she'd mostly been careful with her dialect so she wouldn't give any indication of her nationality.

(She was fairly certain she was the only English girl in her school.)

_**Unknown (11:06AM): I'm in music theory. you?** _

If they'd noticed her slip-up, Bonnie couldn't tell. She'd just have to be as careful as she could from now on.

_**Bonnie (11:06AM): I have English. I didn't realise I was talking to a musician. What instrument do you play?** _

Bonnibel hoped that the question wasn't too invasive. Who knew, maybe the person would say that they played guitar and it'd turn out to be Keila. Sure, Bonnie wouldn't have made a new friend, but they'd have something to laugh about.

_**Unknown (11:07AM): I play a few. guitar, bass, piano, violin, cello, mandolin, ukulele, harp and a lot more that I'm too lazy to list** _

_**Unknown (11:07AM): I sing too** _

Bonnibel blinked down at the screen. So…maybe it wasn't Keila. Besides, she had Keila's number saved to her phone, so she probably should've remembered that.

Even if it was Keila by some sort of weird miracle, it was still impressive.

_**Bonnie (11:08AM): Wow. That's really cool. I wish I could play music like that. I played piano when I was younger but I stopped when I turned thirteen.** _

Bonnibel prayed that her unknown friend wouldn't ask why. That wasn't something she was in the mood for explaining.

_**Unknown (11:08AM): you should start again** _

_**Unknown (11:08AM): who knows, if we ever reveal our identities/meet, we can do an awesome piano duet ;)** _

Bonnibel laughed. Taking into account the amount of instruments her friend said they could play, she doubted that her talents would be up to par. Especially considering she'd gone three years without playing.

Either way, Bonnie decided to humour them.

_**Bonnibel (11:09AM): Hah, maybe. I doubt I'll be as good as you, though.** _

She paused in thought before sending something else. Hopefully her proposition wouldn't sound too invasive or pushy. She didn't want to scare her friend off.

_**Bonnie (11:09AM): You should call me sometime and play for me. I'd like that. You don't have to talk if you think it'd give you away. You don't even have to do it if you don't want to.** _

_**Unknown (11:10AM): alright, maybe I will** _

Bonnie's face broke out into a smile. They hadn't said no. That was a nice surprise.

_**Bonnie (11:10AM): Cool. Just let me know if/when you're going to call.** _

Saying a quick goodbye to her friends, Bonnibel stood up and made her way towards the school building upon noticing the time. She should probably get to class.

Her phone didn't buzz again by the time she'd entered her classroom and sat down in her usual seat next to Keila – English language and German were two of the classes they shared – so she assumed that her friend wasn't going to reply. Either that or they were suddenly caught up in something else.

It wasn't until she'd pulled her notebook from her backpack that her phone buzzed in her pocket.

_**Unknown (11:12AM): no worries. let me know when you're free. :)** _

"Texting an unknown number, are we?" Keila smirked as she sat down next to her. "Risky. Unless you know who it is."

"Shut up," Bonnie rolled her eyes. "They're a friend. They're really sweet."

"What's their name?" Keila frowned at the messages that Bonnie was scrolling through. "Please tell me that you actually know who this is. It could be a sexual predator or something."

For the second time in the past ten seconds, Bonnibel rolled her eyes. "I don't know who it is and I like that. Having an anonymous friend is cool."

Keila snatched her phone from her hand and clicked on the contact, reading the number. "I'm checking to see if I have this number. Just to calm my nerves. I don't want my friend being stalked."

"If you do, don't tell me who it is." Bonnie watched as Keila searched the number in her contacts, keeping her gaze directed off the screen. "And don't tell them who I am. I like being able to confide in someone with no repercussions."

Keila seemed to have found something, judging by the way she was looking at her phone. She was staring down at the screen, her worried expression pulled into an amused smile. "Oh, this is awesome."

Bonnibel blinked in confusion. "What happened to 'it's a sexual predator'?"

"It's not a sexual predator." Keila quickly responded. "It's- _wow_. This is amazing."

Bonnibel squinted at her. She couldn't tell if it was amazing in a good way or a bad way. "I don't want to know who it is. Just- um, I don't like the way you're so amused."

Keila shook her head. "I can't wait until you guys find out. I want to be there for that. Oh my god."

Bonnie frowned and grabbed her phone from Keila, typing out a quick message to her friend. Maybe they'd know why Keila was acting so weirdly.

_**Bonnie (11:14AM): Do you know Keila?** _

_**Unknown (11:14AM): we might be acquainted. why?** _

_**Bonnie (11:14AM): She says she knows who you are. She has your phone number. I've asked her not to tell you my identity and I still don't know yours but…I don't know. She's acting weird about it. Would you by any chance know why?** _

Bonnie waited for an answer with Keila's hazel eyes burning holes in the back of her head. There had to be a reasonable explanation that wouldn't reveal her friend's identity.

_**Unknown (11:15AM): she was the dickhead that wrote my number in the back of that library book** _

Bonnibel breathed out a soft sigh of relief. That was a perfectly logical explanation. "You wrote their number in the back of the library book, didn't you?"

Keila laughed. "Yep. About a year ago. I refused to tell her which book it was and I wouldn't erase it because it was funny when she was sent random dick pics. But hey, if I hadn't she wouldn't have made friends with you."

"I'm talking to a girl?" Bonnibel frowned down at her phone. She'd tried not to assume gender and she was almost _comforted_ knowing that she was talking to another girl. Still, there was a little worry at the back of her mind when she thought through Keila's friends. "It's not Marceline, is it? If it is I'm going to block her number."

(She had a plan to avoid Marceline. Especially considering she might've let slip to Mr Abadeer how unhelpful she was being with their project.)

Keila laughed again, shaking her head. "Nope, not Marceline. Trust me, she'd probably have already blocked your number. Unknown numbers are an automatic _no_ when it comes to Marceline. Honestly, most numbers are an automatic no for her."

Bonnibel looked Keila over. She didn't seem to be lying, but there was one little problem with what she'd said. "But she's your only female friend."

"The only female friend you've seen me with." Keila corrected. "The girl you're talking to was a partner of mine on a project last year in English lit. That's why we were in the library. We don't talk as much anymore."

Bonnibel nodded and looked down at her phone. "Well, tell her I think she's really sweet. And maybe when we're both cool with it, we can hang out sometime."

Keila's smile wasn't the same as usual when she replied. "I'm sure she'd like that. Once you're both cool with it."

Bonnie smiled to herself and read through a few of her past messages as the bell rang, signalling the start of her next lesson.

She didn't notice the little flash of worry across Keila's face as she looked down at her phone. The screen was still showing the results of her contact search, the name _Marceline Abadeer_ at the top of the screen.

Nope. Bonnie didn't notice anything.

Yet.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bonnie goes to a school dance and Marceline visits an old friend.

She hadn't bothered shopping for a new dress.

If she was being honest, she didn't see the point in dressing up as fancy as she could to go to a dance with her friends. School discos back at home never involved wearing pretty dresses, so Bonnie went with something casual but pretty that was already hanging in her closet.

Usually, dresses were her go-to outfit, but she couldn't wear them in winter. A school dance was a perfect excuse to get out one of her favourite pink ones. Makeup wasn't much of an issue either – she just did what she usually did and kept it fairly minimal. Simplicity was what she was going for.

She beamed when she heard the doorbell ring, and assumed it was one of her friends here to pick her up. She sprayed herself with her bubblegum perfume and then headed down the stairs, pausing midway when Marshall was stood in the hallway, making awkward conversation with Peter.

"Marshall?" Bonnie frowned, "I thought Jake was picking me up."

Marshall flashed her one of his lopsided grins. "Yeah, there was a change of plan. Jake's car was too full so my sister is dropping us off."

Bonnibel's expression soured. "Your sister?"

That was a great way to start her evening; an encounter with Marceline. Fabulous. No doubt there'd be some obnoxious comment about how her dress didn't fit her right or her glasses were awkward or something of that nature.

"Yeah. I never passed my driving test, so- uh, she's the one with the car." He let out an awkward laugh. "I'm going to try and pass my test again, though. Marceline isn't coming with us to the dance, if that's why you're looking so worried."

At least there was a little bit of good news. She'd only have to deal with Marceline for the ten minute drive to school. "Alright then. I can be civil for ten minutes."

He cringed. "You two didn't get off to such a good start, huh?"

"Not at all," Bonnibel let out a soft laugh and looked over to Peter, "What time should I be home for?"

"Ten at the latest," He squeezed her shoulder in a comforting manner, "Have fun. I'll wait up for you."

"Alright," Bonnie smiled at him and followed Marshall out of the door. Being outside kind of made her regret her decision to wear a dress, but she knew that she'd be fine once they were at school and inside. No doubt the gym would be cramped and far too hot.

She jumped backwards when Marshall put a hand on the small of her back, and smiled gratefully when he put a small amount of distance between them. Unexpected contact wasn't her thing.

(Contact with people she isn't close with wasn't her thing either.)

She followed Marshall to Marceline's car – he jumped in the front seat, and she resolved to sit in the back, as far away from Marceline as she could get.

Unfortunately, Marceline decided to talk to her.

(Well, more like talk _about_ her.)

"I can't believe _she's_ your date." Marceline didn't bother to keep her voice quiet. In fact, Bonnie could've sworn she was speaking louder than usual. "She's so…uptight. Not to mention _prissy_."

Bonnie rolled her eyes as Marshall replied. "Shut up, Marceline. Bonnibel's nice to people that aren't…well, _you_."

"I'm nice to _everyone_ , Marshall," Bonnie corrected him, "as long as they're nice to me."

He laughed, "I don't see why anyone wouldn't be nice to you."

"I can think of a few reasons," Marceline muttered under her breath, but it was loud enough for Bonnie to catch it. That was probably on purpose.

" _Ugh_ , you're so-" Usually Bonnibel would've finished that sentence, but she didn't. For Marshall's sake. He was her friend, and she didn't want to push him away by retaliating to his sister's ridiculous comments. That was what Marceline wanted, anyway. She was purposefully trying to get under Bonnie's skin to get a reaction.

It was obvious.

Bonnie decided to keep her mouth shut on the ride to the school dance. Whatever Marceline thought about her, she didn't care. It wasn't like Bonnie wanted to be within fifty feet of her anyway.

Not acknowledging Marceline's existence worked rather well, actually. She chatted with Marshall for most of the drive and listened to him recount a story about the time he fell off stage while playing with his band.

Occasionally, Marceline would make a sarcastic comment about her – usually something about her attitude – but Bonnie would act like she didn't hear it. Her personal favourite was 'your glasses are so big that you look like Professor Trelawney from Harry Potter'. Not because she liked being likened to the weird character, but because it was a Harry Potter reference, coming from the girl who walked around attempting to intimidate everyone.

Not _once_ did Marceline turn around to get her attention with these remarks. They faded eventually, and she was the one keeping her mouth shut when they pulled up outside school.

"Thanks for the ride, Marce," Marshall grinned at her, "Don't worry about picking us up, we'll figure something out."

Marceline nodded in response to him and then finally craned her neck to look at Bonnibel. Idiotically, Bonnibel let out a soft gasp when she stared back at Marceline. Her left eye was bruised and blackened and she found it hard to believe that it wasn't swollen shut. That looked painful. So painful that Bonnibel's stomach lurched at the sight, but not in a disgusted way. In a weird way.

Bonnibel clenched her jaw, which had been hanging open in her initial shock. She wasn't going to be sympathetic.

In fact, she was going to show Marceline how little she cared about her.

She let out an amused scoff. "Wow. Really, Marceline? A black eye?"

There wasn't a response. Just a scowl and Marceline's hands tightening around the steering wheel. _Good_. _Shows that I'm right._

"You know, when people told me you got yourself into fights, I planned on giving you the benefit of the doubt." Bonnie lied. In reality, she'd planned on staying away. She still _did_ plan on staying away. "But apparently, you're no better than the rumours about you. Shouldn't have expected anything, should I?"

With that, Bonnibel climbed out of the car after Marshall and headed into the dance with a triumphant smile on her face. There. That was bound to make Marceline stop being so immature and insulting her every few seconds. That's what you were supposed to do, right? Stand up people.

Marshall sent her an awkward smile. "Can I ask why you two don't really like each other?"

Bonnibel scowled. Marceline was the last thing she wanted to think about while she was out with her friends. She was supposed to be having _fun_.

"She's just too…abrasive." That was putting it lightly, but she was doing it for his sake. If she had been talking to someone like Lady, she wouldn't hold back. "And rude. Our personalities clash and I don't think I'd be able to get along with her even if we were a thousand miles apart and talking over Twitter."

Actually, Bonnie thought that Marceline would probably be even _more_ annoying across the internet. There would be no reason to hold back anything she says on there, considering she'd be hidden behind a screen.

"Fair," Marshall looked a little disappointed, "but you should know that she's cool once she's comfortable with you."

Bonnie interpreted that as 'try harder', but she didn't want to. She had no desire to be friends with someone that ended up with a black eye just because she went out at the weekend. Violent people weren't good people.

"Eh, whatever," Bonnie's response was coupled with a casual shrug, "So, where are we meeting everyone else?"

It was Marshall's turn to shrug. He pulled his phone from his pocket, presumably to check for any texts from Finn or Jake. "They haven't called to let me know where they are. I guess they'll be inside, but I wasn't sure what time they'd be setting off."

"They probably came around the same time we did," Bonnie smiled gratefully as he held the door to the gym open for her, "We'll see them inside, most likely."

"Yeah," Marshall didn't look all that concerned about their friends, "so, what made you want to come to the dance tonight?"

"I've never really been to a school dance before. Not a semi-formal one like this, anyway." Bonnie explained, "Obviously I went to my year eleven prom at home, but it wasn't like I had a big group of friends to party with. Bubba was my date and I had a lot of fun with him, though."

"Bubba?" Marshall raised an eyebrow, "Should I feel threatened by this Bubba guy?"

Bonnibel didn't know why he'd be threatened in the first place. She was allowed to be friends with more than one boy. Weird.

Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, Bonnibel let out an awkward laugh and replied, "No, Bubba is my best friend from home. He offered to take me to prom since he couldn't find a date and there wasn't anyone that I liked in the year."

"All the guys there weren't your type, eh?" Marshall nudged her with his elbow and she shifted uncomfortably. "That sucks. Maybe there's someone here that you'll like."

"Yeah, maybe. I've never had much of an interest in dating, really. It just seems kind of…trivial." Bonnie murmured. She spied Lady over by the punchbowl, and before Marshall could respond to her, quickly cut in, "I'm going to say hello to Lady. I'll be right back."

"Okay," Marshall blinked in confusion as she walked away from him. She heard him mutter something else, but she didn't quite catch it.

Bonnibel sent Lady a smile to grab her attention. "Hey. When did you get here?"

"About ten minutes ago," Lady held up an empty cup, "Punch?"

Bonnibel glanced down at the liquid and shook her head. "No thanks. Why didn't you text me?"

Lady frowned, "What do you mean?"

"To say that Jake's car was full." Bonnibel explained. Marshall had told her that there had been a change of plans because of Jake's car, but none of her friends had called to explain.

(Just another instance of her being forgotten about.)

Apparently, Lady remembered. The way she smacked her free hand to her forehead was kind of a giveaway. "Oh, yeah, I was going to tell you but then Elle had a dress mishap and threw a huge tantrum. It kind of slipped my mind amidst all the yelling. Sorry."

"It's okay," Bonnie accepted her apology and glanced over at the table all of her friends were sat at. From where she was stood, Elle's dress was fine. Finn and Jake were both looking dapper and Phoebe and Fionna were both really beautiful.

Elle was by _far_ the most dolled up, though. Her purple dress was impossibly frilly and reminded Bonnie of something that she'd see a queen or a princess wear to an extravagant ball. Definitely not suitable for a school dance. Her makeup was…experimental? Honestly, Bonnibel couldn't think of a good word to describe it.

But hey, if Elle wanted to wear bright purple eyeshadow, she should go ahead and do it. Bonnie wasn't one to judge.

Besides, everyone knew that Elle wasn't very familiar with the term _subtlety._

"Are you going to come and sit with us?" Lady asked her, her gaze not entirely focused on Bonnie. Her smile shifted to more of a devious smirk. "I think Marshall's waiting for you."

Bonnie cast a quick glance over at Marshall, and sure enough, he was stood right where she'd left him. "Oh. Uh, I think I'd rather sit down. I feel like he wants to dance and I'm not much of a dancer."

If she wasn't mistaken, Lady looked slightly disappointed at that. Maybe she'd hoped that Bonnibel would branch out and try new things? Or be more extroverted, considering they weren't in an academic environment?

"Alright then," Lady beamed at her, "Come on."

She followed Lady over to her other friends and sent them a smile, collapsing into one of the spare seats. She was going to relax for a few minutes and then work her way into the conversation.

It wasn't long before Marshall sat down next to her.

"Hey again." He flashed her a smile. "Do you want some punch?"

"No, thanks." Bonnibel waved a hand in dismissal. She didn't mean to be rude and she appreciated chivalry, but she'd rather just… sit. Take things in before she did anything. She hadn't quite grasped the general schema yet. "You don't need to offer, though. If I want some, I'll get it for myself. I'm not that important."

"Just trying to be gentlemanly." He held his hands up in defence and Bonnibel felt a little guilty. She hadn't meant to cause any offence. "Would you like to dance?"

Just as she'd predicted, he'd already asked. She felt a little awkward; dancing involved touching, and Bonnibel didn't feel like she was comfortable enough with him for that. Except she felt like she'd alienated him already and didn't want to make him think that she didn't want to be his friend.

She settled for something elusive. "Maybe later. I think I'm just going to relax for a while."

His face fell and she felt something sink in her chest. It was only for a second, though, before his hopeful expression came back full force. "Well, if you're not down for dancing, maybe we could do something a little more your style some other time. Not a school organised thing, if you know what I mean."

She frowned in confusion. "I have absolutely no idea what you mean."

"Uh," Marshall laughed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, "I mean like… a date. Kind of. Maybe. If you're down for that. I was thinking next Friday night, maybe. We could go bowling or something more exciting than that if you want."

Bonnibel blinked at him. He'd just asked her out. She really didn't know how she felt about that. "Um, no. Sorry, Marshall. I like you, but not in that way. It's just- I don't want to ruin our friendship because of this…"

She trailed off, unsure how to finish. All she knew was that she didn't like Marshall like that.

"Oh," His face fell again and Bonnibel's guilt came back, ten times more than before. "That's alright. I'll just- um,"

Bonnie watched as he stood up and walked over to his friend who was the DJ for the night, across the other side of the room. She assumed he needed his space after that.

Trying to push her guilt from her mind, she pulled her phone from the little purse she'd brought with her for a distraction.

She was surprised when she already had a text.

_**Unknown (7:16PM): do you ever feel like you just shouldn't exist** _

Bonnibel blinked in confusion. Usually, her anonymous friend was the comforter and she was the comfortee.

_**Bonnibel (7:28PM): Very existential. If it makes you feel any better, I'd be super sad if you didn't exist. I like being able to talk to you about things. You're a really good friend of mine and I don't even know your name. All I know is that you're a girl and you're friends with Keila.** _

_**Bonnibel (7:29PM): I'm sending you virtual hugs right now, friend. :) x** _

She hoped that was good enough to cheer someone up. Usually when somebody was upset around her, Bonnibel made as many dorky comments as she could and told them silly anecdotes to get their mind off things.

_**Unknown (7:30PM): thanks** _

_**Unknown (7:30PM): I don't know I just... feel like everyone would be better off if I'd never existed. I just drag everyone down and I'm useless and it's like… why does anybody care about me** _

_**Unknown (7:31PM): why do you even care about me** _

_**Unknown (7:31PM): you seem like you're so much better than this. than me.** _

Bonnibel read over the texts multiple times before replying. She wanted to be one hundred percent certain that she'd shut down all of her friend's self-doubts.

_**Bonnibel (7:31PM): You're so good at making people feel better. You've made me feel better so many times and given me awesome advice. Without that, I'd have a lot of unsolved predicaments on my hands. And I care about you because even though I don't know you, I can tell that you're an amazing person. You're kind hearted, funny and talented. You're probably really pretty. If anyone's the better person here, it's you. Fifteen minutes ago I put someone down just for the sake of it and I'm already regretting that. You don't seem like the type to do that.** _

_**Bonnibel (7:32PM): I wish I had a name to call you by. So I could reassure you properly. I feel like you might claim that I don't know you because I don't know your name, but I care about you. And I'd be very sad if you just disappeared.** _

Bonnibel smiled, satisfied with her reasoning. Hopefully her friend would see that she's worth something and not feel so down. Bonnie hated it when her friends were down, and she felt even more powerless in this type of situation where she couldn't buy her a chocolate bar or something.

_**Unknown (7:34PM): call me m.** _

Bonnibel blinked down at the screen. She hadn't been expecting that response. It took a moment, but she eventually smiled and typed back.

_**Bonnibel (7:34PM): Hi, M. Call me B. :)** _

* * *

Marceline paused, staring down at her phone one more time and reading B's reassurances. She'd been parked outside the building for at least a half hour, waiting for the right moment to go inside. It wasn't like she hadn't been here before, but every time she came, she felt…off. Like something bad was going to happen.

(The fact that she looked like she'd just been mugged really wasn't reassuring, either.)

But _someone_ thought she was worth something. It didn't matter that the prissy princess had been a little _bitch_ and insulted her like she had. B believed in her. She had someone.

She pushed open her car door and took in a deep breath. No turning back. She tucked her phone in her pocket with a smile and walked towards the building, knocking on the door. She waited until she heard feet shuffling a quiet murmurs, putting on a smile when the door swung open.

She awkwardly waved, hoping that it'd be casual enough to distract him from her eye. "Hey."

"Marceline," Simon didn't look all too pleased with her as he beckoned her inside, "what the _hell_ happened to you?"

"Um…I hit myself with a cupboard door while making green tea." Marceline was thankful that Simon wasn't one to buy into the constant rumours that she'd hurt herself from fighting. She wasn't an aggressive person and was grateful that she had one person who believed that. Even if he didn't _know_ about said rumours. "I know. I'm a klutz."

He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and worked on making them coffees. "You really need to be more careful. I remember when you were younger and you nearly hit yourself with that guitar. I don't know _what_ you were doing swinging it around like you were."

"I think I was trying to be a rockstar." Marceline let out a soft laugh, relieved that he hadn't pushed her more about her injury. She could relax now. "I don't know, I was a weird kid."

"Was?" Simon raised an eyebrow in amusement and she rolled her eyes as best she could. "You're still a weirdo, Marcy. Hanging around with me when you could be out with your friends on a Friday night."

"They're all at the school dance. Not my thing." Marceline reminded him. She didn't like being at school for any longer than she had to be. "Besides, I like hanging with you. You'll marathon Star Wars movies with me."

"I suppose you being here is better than you being with that Ash fellow." Simon mumbled to himself as he turned to grab the coffees. "You're not still hanging around with him, are you?"

Marceline coughed and glanced down at her feet. "I don't know. Kind of."

Simon sighed and she cringed. The last thing she wanted was somebody else to think she was a disappointment. "You shouldn't be doing that. But, if he makes you happy…"

Ash didn't make her happy. Far from it. But she had other reasons for being with him.

No. Someone else was the source of her happiness, lately. "I made a new friend."

"Really?" The way Simon's face lit up and how proud he looked made Marceline feel much better. "What's their name? Tell me all about them."

"I like to call her B. She's in my grade and she's sixteen. I met her because of Keila." Marceline reeled off all the things she knew to be fact about B. "She's really cool. I like her a lot and we have some things in common but there are differences, too."

"It's nice that you've made another friend, Marcy. I'd like to meet her one day." Simon adjusted his glasses and sipped on his coffee, and Marceline couldn't help but agree with the latter half of that. _Yeah,_ she thought, _I'd like to meet her one day too_. "How's Marshall doing? He doesn't come over as regularly as you do."

"He's fine. He said he had a date tonight with the new girl at our school." Marceline sunk down in her chair at the mention of Bonnibel. "I don't like her."

"You don't like most people, Marcy." Simon let out a soft laugh. "I'm sure she's nice enough once you get to know her. Your brother wouldn't like her if she wasn't a nice girl."

"Either that or my brother isn't using his two remaining brain cells very well." Marceline muttered and folded her arms across her chest. "She's so pretentious with her stupid accent and the way she thinks she's so much better than everyone."

"Accent? So she's from abroad. I'm sure your brother is just attracted to her because she's from a different background. That kind of thing is enthralling." Simon explained to her.

Marceline shook her head in protest. "It's not that, it's just- she seems to have everyone else under this little spell of hers. She has everyone wrapped around her little finger and it's so annoying. It's like I'm the only person who can see her for what she really is. Even _Dad_ likes her. He likes her so much that he's paired her with me on some stupid project just because he thinks she'll influence me."

Calmly, Simon shushed her and spoke. "Does this girl happen to be good at science?"

"Yes," Marceline reluctantly admitted, "she's crazy good at it. Why is that important?"

"Because that's probably why your father likes her. Hunson has always taken a liking to people with scientific minds. Why do you think we're friends?" Simon chuckled lightly in an attempt to release the tension in the room. "He probably paired you up because he knows that this girl is good at the subject and you'll do well on the project with someone who favours the analytical and factual side of their brain over the creative one."

"She's still a pretentious asshole though." Marceline was adamant on that fact. "I would work better with Keila."

Simon sent her a knowing look. "No, you wouldn't." At her sheepish smile, he nodded towards the lounge. "Come on then. Now that you seem slightly less upset, let's marathon the Star Wars movies."

Marceline beamed and followed him into the lounge, her brother's 'date' with Bonnibel completely slipping her mind.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bonnie and Marceline finally hand in their project.

Bonnibel found her in the library.

Hidden away in the back corner near the window, she was reading a book, as nonchalant as could be. Her shoes were on the floor but her feet were on her chair, her legs in a diagonal fashion as she read. Bonnibel raised an eyebrow at the girl's socks – they were mismatched, one sporting a distorted image of The Hulk and the other decorated with Thor.

It was all too casual for Bonnibel's liking.

Either way, she lowered herself into the seat opposite her and cleared her throat to announce her presence. All she received in response was a passing glance over the top of the book.

"What're you reading?" Bonnie tried to sound interested and enthusiastic, but it was hard, considering who she was talking to.

Marceline sighed, her green eyes flicking from the page she was on in her book up to Bonnibel. "Game of Thrones." At Bonnie's small look of surprise, Marceline rolled her eyes and then trained them back on her page. "What? Surprised that I can read?"

"Surprised that you _choose_ to read." Bonnibel corrected her. "Most people just watch the television show. Why'd you take your shoes off, exactly?"

"Because I don't want to get the chair dirty and I'm comfortable sitting like this." Marceline huffed and marked the page she was on in her book. "You don't need to make small talk, princess. What do you want?"

"We're handing in our project today and I want to know if you finished the poster like I told you to." Bonnibel folded her arms across her chest and waited expectantly.

Thankfully, Marceline reached forwards and produced an A3 sheet of paper from her bag. The poster was as Bonnibel had wanted, which was pleasantly surprising. She scanned it over just to make sure – she couldn't be too careful when it came to Marceline – and then passed it back to the other girl with a satisfied nod.

"Everything is in order." Bonnie promptly responded. She produced a plastic folder from her bag and slid it across the little table between them. "This is the essay for it that I produced with the notes we made that day in the holidays. You can read it over if you'd like."

"I'm good." Marceline pulled her book back in front of her face and continued reading, effectively cutting her off. "Feel free to fuck off now."

Bonnibel huffed. "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't use that kind of language or tone around me. It's insolent and rude. Can we just be civil, please? I'm sick of arguing every time I'm within ten feet of you."

Marceline lowered her book again. "You want to be civil with me?"

"Yes, I do." Bonnie confirmed. She had to remind herself that it wasn't because she liked Marceline. Far from it. This was for her own sake. "I feel like it'd be easier for the both of us if we ever encounter one another. Besides, it's not like we'll have to meet up regularly after this project has been handed in. We'll go our separate ways and our mutual avoidance policy will be put back in place. But it's best for others people and mutual friends if we're not at each other's throats whenever we run into one another."

Marceline frowned at her, as though she was trying to figure out Bonnibel's actual motive. There wasn't one. Bonnibel was being as genuine as she could be, because arguing with Marceline was tiring and she was honestly sick of it. Civility was the best policy.

Marceline watched her for a moment, apparently considering her offer. She looked conflicted, as though pushing Bonnie's buttons was something she enjoyed doing – it wouldn't surprise Bonnie if it was – but then let out a soft sigh.

Eventually, as if Marceline had completed her Bonnie-scan and concluded that there were no scary ulterior motives, she stuck her hand out. "Fine. Deal. We can be civil."

Bonnibel eyed Marceline's outstretched palm. She knew that the other girl wanted her to shake, but Bonnie didn't want to touch her.

Marceline seemed to sense this. "Come on, shake or the deal's off. You're not going to contract a violently scary illness or whatever. I promise I don't have rabies."

Carefully, Bonnibel shook Marceline's cold hand, shrugging off the weird shifting in her stomach that she felt at the other girl's touch. Judging by Marceline's cold and impassive look, she hadn't felt anything, so Bonnie kept her mouth shut and resolved to ignore it.

Then, Bonnibel dropped Marceline's hand and shuffled uncomfortably. "Good. Now that we're agreed on that, would you like to turn the project in to your dad? I know that class is in ten minutes anyway, but it's always good to get things in early. It shows… organisational skills."

Marceline raised an eyebrow. "No point in me going with you, then. Dad knows that I don't have any of those."

To Marceline's complete and utter surprise, Bonnibel laughed. "Come on, what harm could it do? He might think that you're becoming more mature. Besides, if you don't come with me to turn it in, he might think that I did the project by myself and you didn't help."

"Good point," Marceline sat up and closed her book, dropping it in her black backpack. "Maybe you're not as horrible as I initially thought."

Bonnibel frowned as Marceline laced up her shoes and slung her backpack over her shoulder. "That was _almost_ a compliment. Wow. Your ability to avoid complimenting people is outstanding, Abadeer."

"And that actually was a compliment." Marceline shot back, skirting around Bonnibel and towards the library door. "Thanks."

Bonnibel snorted in amusement as she followed the other girl out of the library. "Who says that I intended it to be a compliment? Apparently your ability to take things as compliments to fuel your giant, superhuman ego is also outstanding."

Marceline scoffed, craning her neck to look at Bonnie. " _Please._ What happened to being civil, huh?"

"What? Casual sarcastic banter isn't being civil?" Bonnibel held her hands up in defence. "Fine, I'll stop."

Marceline picked up on Bonnibel's continuing sarcastic tone and rolled her eyes. "You're ridiculous. I still think you're pretentious."

Bonnibel raised an eyebrow. "And I think you need to widen your vocabulary. The amount of times you've called me pretentious since we've met can't be counted on two hands."

Marceline folded her arms across her chest and sent Bonnibel a challenging look, but Bonnie knew that she hadn't made the other girl angry. The easy half-smile that Marceline was trying to cover up was mitigating the effect of her stance. "Fine. You're fake. You're self-obsessed. You're… ostentatious. That enough vocabulary for you?"

"For now." Bonnie finally flashed a smile. Marceline didn't smile back, and merely ducked her head to hide the half-grin on her face as she held her dad's classroom door open for Bonnie.

Marceline glanced over to her dad's desk. "I'm surprised that he's not in here. Usually this is where he camps out. He's probably making coffee in the teacher's lounge."

"Yeah, probably." Bonnibel watched as Marceline made her way to the back of the room and slumped down in her usual seat. "I don't understand how you can sit back there. I wouldn't be able to see the board without my glasses."

Marceline watched as Bonnibel tapped her round glasses with her forefinger. "I like it. Nobody notices what you're doing at the back. And I wear contacts, so I can see perfectly fine."

Bonnibel hummed in acknowledgement. "I considered wearing contact lenses because a lot of people used to make fun of my glasses and refer to me as Einstein. It kind of backfired on them, though, because Einstein didn't even wear glasses and he was a literal genius so it was more of a compliment than anything."

Marceline considered Bonnie's points. "Professor Trelawney, though…"

"Oh, shut up," Bonnibel laughed softly. "And hey, she could see the future… debatably. Are you saying I'm _that_ smart that I'm a psychic?"

Marceline raised an eyebrow. "And you say that _I'm_ the one that turns everything into a compliment to fuel her humongous ego?"

Bonnie had to admit that she'd caught her out. "Alright, whatever, you might've caught me doing that _once_. Whatever, Marceline."

"Marceline, I hope you're not purposely getting under Bonnibel's skin." Marceline nearly jumped out of her own skin when her dad spoke up, making his way over to his desk. "You wouldn't want her to think that you're-"

"Oh, no, it was nothing like that." Bonnibel was quick to defend her, which was incredibly surprising. "We were just chatting while waiting for you to come back. We wanted to hand in our project early." Marceline watched as Bonnibel extended the folder that contained everything in Hunson's direction. "Everything required is in there, plus our beginning research."

Marceline stayed silent as she could as her dad flicked through the project, his smile widening with every page. She took that as a good sign.

"From what I can see here, you've both done a good job." Marceline breathed a sigh of relief as he said that. "You know what? You two can be project partners from now on."

Marceline froze. " _What_?"

Even though she'd agreed to be civil, she'd assumed that she'd barely see Bonnibel again after they'd turned the project in.

But now her dad was saying this, and Marceline could only tolerate Bonnie in low doses.

"Well, you've obviously worked well together." Hunson pointed out. "It's the best idea if we're thinking about your grades, Marceline."

Marceline stayed quiet, practising her resentment in silence. Great. So she was stuck with Bonnibel.

As she let that thought settle for the rest of the day, she stunned herself when she realised it might not be all that bad.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bonnie talks to Marshall again.

"You know, I don't see why German has all of these cases. And genders for words. Like, what's the point? They're _words_. It just makes everything so much more complicated." Keila let out a loud huff as she dropped her notebook back into her backpack. "And don't even get me started on all of the different strong verbs and the past tenses and stuff. How am I supposed to remember all of them?"

Bonnie laughed at Keila's rant as she slid her arms through the straps of her pink backpack. "English has strong verbs. I know that the cases can be a little tricky, but eventually they'll click."

"English has strong verbs that make _sense_ , though." Keila argued with her. Bonnie had to hold back her laugh when she struggled with her backpack's zipper and scowled down at it. "English makes so much more sense than this weird, gendered, case-ridden language. I should've just taken sign language or something."

"Yeah, because 'I am' sounds a whole lot like 'to be'." Bonnibel pointed out. She watched as Keila's scowl was completely wiped off her face, and continued to list examples. "I _went_ to the store doesn't sound at all like 'to _go_ '. And-"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, Mrs _I'm so good at grammar_." Keila stuck her tongue out and sent her a mocking smile. "If I don't understand what we need to do, you'll help me, right?"

Bonnibel beamed, grateful as Keila opened the classroom door for her. "Of course. We could meet up in the library and-"

"If I were you, I wouldn't take her up on that." Bonnie blinked in surprise when she heard the familiar monotone and spun on her heels to face Marceline, her sudden eye roll an automated response. "It's torturous. This girl doesn't fuck around when it comes to studying."

"It's not my fault that I'm responsible." Bonnie casually shrugged and sent Marceline a half smile. "Maybe you should follow my example. You never know, working with me in science might change your mind on school and education."

Marceline rolled her eyes, but her mouth curled upwards on one side and made her look more amused than irritated. "Or working with you might drive me over the edge and I'll go insane and end up running away to live in the mountains."

"Wouldn't be much of a loss, then." Bonnie teased. "I'm sure that defeating the scary Marceline Abadeer and her infamous death glare would be an _honour_. Maybe I'd get a medal."

Keila watched their exchange with an amused and oddly knowing grin, and casually threw an arm around Marceline's shoulders. "Looks like you've met your match, Marce. I don't think you're going to out-sarcasm this one."

Bonnibel flashed a proud smile when Keila jerked her head in her direction. "Thanks, Keila."

Naturally, Marceline soured at her friend's statement, her face twisting into one of her usual scowls. "Shut up. She's too… smart. I don't like it."

"Wow, Marceline," Bonnie snorted with laughter, "you actually managed a compliment. I'm surprised. We were almost there last week, but you finally did it. I'm both proud and surprised that you're turning over a new leaf of kindness and empathy towards others."

Keila laughed as Bonnie put the cherry on top of that batch of sarcasm with a slow clap. "See, this is why I like her. She's funny."

Marceline let out a sigh that was dragged out for far too long to be genuine. Bonnie's head jerked backwards in surprise and felt an odd pang in her chest when Marceline looked back to Keila with an actual _smile_ on her face. "Yeah, whatever. I have to admit that it's refreshing to have a challenge. But I'm still going to beat her in an argument."

"One day," Bonnie concurred, allowing Marceline a false victory, "maybe in your dreams."

Again, Marceline's face crumpled into a frown and she shook her head. "You're too much. I don't know why my brother likes you."

Immediately, Bonnibel's stomach dropped in guilt. Marshall. She hadn't spoken to him since the dance, and although she'd seen him coming in her direction a few times, she'd intentionally been avoiding him. She knew that she'd have to talk to him eventually, but the thought made her queasy. It would be so awkward and she'd feel so bad for hurting him, but she didn't like him like that. That wasn't something she could change.

Or was it? She couldn't tell.

"Yeah, I don't think he likes me that much anymore." Bonnie finally replied with a sigh and a wistful smile. "He asked me out and I said no. I don't… he's not my type."

Keila smirked. "Maybe you take more of a sapphic route."

Bonnibel blinked. It took her a moment to realise what Keila was implying. When she did, it hit her like a ton of bricks and she shook her head a little too violently. "Oh, no, definitely not. I'm straight. I just haven't met the right boy yet, obviously."

Marceline's gaze flicked to Keila for a fraction of a second, and Bonnie's compatriots exchanged an odd look that she had trouble deciphering. "Uh… alright. I don't think Marsh is upset about that. Not anymore. I think he just wants to… talk things out. He probably wants to stay your friend. Not that I see _why_ he'd want to do that…"

Bonnibel brushed off Marceline's half-insult. "Really? That's kind of a relief. I would hate for him to be mad at me."

"Marshall doesn't get mad. In fact, you wouldn't believe it, but," Keila elbowed Marceline in the side, "this one never gets that mad either. Maybe it's something in the genes. What kind of water are you drinking at your house, Marce?"

Marceline rolled her eyes in response. Instead of answering Keila's fairly rhetorical question, she turned back to Bonnie. "Just… talk to him. I'm sure he'd be happy to clear things up."

Bonnie, unsure as to why Marceline was almost giving her advice, nodded carefully. "I will. Do you know where he'll be?"

Keila nodded ahead of them. "In the music room. That's where we hang out. You can come along and talk to him there, if you'd like. Either that or wait until you see him with your friends."

After a short moment of hesitation, Bonnie nodded again. "Yes. I'll come to music with you. That'd be nice." She glanced over to Marceline, trying to figure out her feelings towards Bonnie invading her space by examining her facial expression, but it remained stoic. As always. "What do you guys do in the music room?"

"Eat our lunches and then have mini band practices." Keila explained. She ducked under Marceline's arm as her friend held the door for her, and after a pause and then a slight nod from Marceline, Bonnie followed. "Usually we don't play any of our actual songs. Just… weird covers. Like last week, Marce made up a random electro-rock Tonight Alive cover. It was really trippy."

"Really?" Bonnie's gaze flicked over to Marceline. "I didn't know that you were… musically inclined. What do you play?"

Marceline merely shrugged, apparently not wanting to talk about it. Bonnie wasn't surprised in the slightest; Marceline always seemed to be grumpy. "A few things. Bass is my favourite, though."

"Interesting." Bonnie commented. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and she knew that she was being watched by someone. "Is your brother looking at me?"

Not subtly in the slightest, Marceline craned her neck to look over at Marshall. "Yup."

Not expecting more than an indifferent and mostly uninterested answer, Bonnibel merely nodded in acknowledgement and turned away from the other girl. She felt Keila squeeze her shoulder in a manner she assumed was supposed to be comforting; really, all it did was make Bonnibel feel uncomfortable.

The first thing she did was send Marshall a soft smile as she crossed the room. Hopefully that would convey that her intentions were good, not bad. As she approached him, she began playing with her fingers in an effort to calm herself down. It didn't work very well for her.

He was the one to speak first. "Hey. How are you?"

The awkward atmosphere between them made Bonnibel shift uncomfortably. She didn't like this one bit. It all felt a little too formal for her. "I'm fine. And yourself?"

"Good." He paused, and she watched as his green eyes darted around the room. She assumed he was trying to find something to fixate on as a conversational topic, but the only things in the room aside from his friends and grumpy sister was a collection of musical instruments, some of which Bonnibel couldn't identify. Music wasn't her thing. Although she'd played piano when she was younger, she'd never had much interest in the other aspects of it. "I hadn't realised that you and my sister were friends."

"Oh, we're not." Bonnie easily replied. She was willing to talk about anything other than how awkward it was between them. "She doesn't like me, but we're civil. We're science partners, so… it had to happen. We can't argue all the time if I want to get work done."

"Either way, that's good that you've put your differences aside." Marshall coughed to clear his throat and glanced down at his feet. "Any reason you came over here?"

 _Great_ , Bonnie thought, _back to the awkwardness with an extra helping of uncomfortable_. "Um, yes, actually. I'd like to talk to you about what happened-"

He was incredibly quick to cut her off. "That's not important. It's alright. I'm not angry."

Although Bonnie was unbelievably relieved that Marceline hadn't lied to her to get a laugh out of the tension, she still didn't allow herself to relax. "It obviously _is_ important, considering how awkward this feels. I'm sorry that I didn't say yes, but I can't help that I don't like you like that. It's- you're my friend, and I've never felt romantically towards a boy that I was friends with first."

(Admittedly, that described all of her relationships with men thus far, but Bonnie ignored that little detail.)

"Thanks for repeating that." Marshall sarcastically responded. It wasn't sarcastic in his usual way, either. It was more bitter and angry rather than funny and carefree. It made her almost fearful.

Out of her peripheral vision, Bonnibel saw Marceline tense and realised that she'd been subtly listening in. Probably to back up her brother if things went south, which was where they looked to be heading.

"I just- I don't want to lose a friend because of unrequited feelings." Bonnibel carefully explained. "I like you, just not in that way. And I'm really, _really_ sorry."

After a long pause, Marshall nodded. "Okay. Yeah. Friends." At Marshall's cooperation, Marceline seemed to relax and went back to plucking at the strings of an acoustic guitar. Bonnibel felt much better without her listening. "Friends sounds good. Thanks for not… I don't know, avoiding me completely for the rest of eternity?"

"Of course I wouldn't avoid you," Bonnibel smiled. Sensing that the conversation was coming to a close, she stretched and jerked her head towards the door. "I'm going to see everyone else. Are you coming?"

"Uh, nah," Marshall shook his head and glanced around the room, "I'm okay here. Need to help these morons play music."

Bonnie didn't reply, just nodded in acknowledgement, and then slipped out of the music room unnoticed.

* * *

_**B (5:32PM): I'm bored, M. You have any good ways I can entertain myself?** _

Marceline frowned down at the text and pushed her notebook to the side for the moment. English homework wasn't important when she had a friend in need.

_**Marceline (5:33PM): talk to me?** _

She knew that she was being totally cheesy and probably annoying – no doubt B actually wanted to find something interesting to do – but talking to her entertained Marceline. Time seemed to pass faster when they talked.

_**B (5:33PM): Sounds like a good idea. How are you?** _

_**Marceline (5:34PM): I'm okay** _

_**Marceline (5:34PM): but my day just got better now that I've got a friend to talk to** _

_**B (5:35PM): Aw, you're sweet. And I'm glad you're alright! I've been okay too, but I feel a lot better today because… I don't really know why, actually. I'm just really happy right now.** _

_**Marceline (5:35PM): obviously because you're talking to me ;)** _

Marceline hoped that the sarcasm would translate, which it usually did. B was good with things like sarcastic banter over text.

_**B (5:36PM): Obviously. You're always a factor in my good moods.** _

For some reason, that made Marceline feel weird. Warm, almost, like someone invisible had just enveloped her in the best hug in the world. She wasn't sure if she liked it.

_**B (5:36PM): By the way, do you watch The 100? The first two episodes of the new season came out and I need someone to talk to about it. None of my friends watch it. :(** _

_**Marceline (5:37PM): you're in luck. it happens to be one of my favourite shows. talk away.** _

_**B (5:37PM): Okay, Clarke and Lexa or Clarke and Bellamy. Discuss.** _

Marceline scoffed. That was the easiest question in the world.

_**Marceline (5:38PM): obviously clarke and lexa. because a) i don't see anything romantic between clarke and bellamy, and 2) lady love.** _

_**B (5:38PM): Valid points. I side with Clarke and Lexa too, for obvious reasons. Even though I'm not gay, I see the appeal of lesbian ships. The relationships between two women are really cute.** _

Marceline frowned down at the screen and typed out her next question in the hope that she wouldn't offend B – she didn't want to imply anything – because that was the last thing she wanted to do.

**_Marceline (5:39PM): do you like any ships with guys in them?_ **

**_B (5:39PM): Not really. I mean, F x M relationships can be kind of cute but I never actively ship them. It's like… I don't know, you've seen it all before? They just don't really appeal to me. M x M relationships don't really interest me that much either, because you see a lot more of those relationships on television than you do F x F. I guess that's why I love The 100 and Orphan Black so much._ **

**_B (5:39PM): Aside from the added bonus of Delphine Cormier in Orphan Black, both shows rule. :)_ **

Marceline narrowed her eyes at the last message. Although she wasn't sure what B was implying, she was a little surprised at her casual reasoning. Most straight girls preferred ships that related to them, right? The ones that had men in them?

Or was she completely wrong? Marceline had no idea. All she knew was that she hadn't met a straight girl who shipped the same things as her.

**_Marceline (5:40PM): has someone got a little crush on Delphine? ;)_ **

**_B (5:40PM): Shush. She might be my woman crush. Her hair is basically flawless, and she's French. French people are automatically really attractive because of their French-ness, and Delphine is no exception to the rule._ **

**_Marceline (5:41PM): so you'd say that Evelyne Brochu is your celebrity crush? not like…Zac Efron or something?_ **

**_B (5:41PM): Well, obviously not in a romantic way. Like, I think she's really pretty and stuff but I just admire her. I wouldn't date her. I'm straight._ **

**_Marceline (5:42PM): I didn't ask if you'd date her, I asked who your celebrity crush was_ **

**_B (5:42PM): Oh. That's awkward._ **

**_B (5:42PM): I don't really have one. I don't think that movie stars or musicians are my type. I guess I just like a normal boy who I have things in common with? I don't know, I don't think about all this dating stuff. I'll have time for that in university._ **

Marceline actually laughed at her friend's answer. It wasn't laughter in a mean way - it was soft; B's straight girl defence system was amusing. Mostly because it was almost too defensive, but Marceline wasn't about to point that out and risk another 'Obviously I like boys' rant from B. Her friend was way to easily wound up, and Marceline thought that that was adorable.

**_Marceline (5:43PM): whatever you say, B. how did school go for you?_ **

**_B (5:43PM): It was okay. Lately school is my least favourite place, because things are just kind of weird right now. It's mostly social problems, admittedly, but I miss my best friend so much and it sucks that I don't have him around._ **

**_Marceline (5:44PM): did he move away or something?_ **

**_B (5:44PM): Yeah. He was the one person who really understood me, you know? We used to talk about everything and even though I have other friends I can talk to and I can still video chat with him, it's not the same._ **

Marceline read over that text a few times. Someone had moved away from their school and she hadn't noticed? Maybe she was as oblivious as Keila said.

**_Marceline (5:45PM): I might not be him, but you can always talk to me. at least with me you know that you'll get the truth 100% of the time. mostly just because you can't kick my teeth in if I'm a dickhead and offend you by accident._ **

**_B (5:45PM): Thanks, M. You're honestly my favourite person in this stupid town. You're so amazing._ **

A warm rush filled Marceline's chest and she beamed down at her phone screen. Nobody had ever said something like that to her before, and even though if B knew who she was she'd probably run for the hills, it was nice to know that she cared.

**_Marceline (5:46PM): I try._ **

**_Marceline (5:46PM): seriously though, that really means a lot._ **

**_B (5:47PM): No problem! I should probably get on with my English literature homework now, but thanks for occupying me and curing my horrible case of boredom. Talk to you soon?_ **

**_Marceline (5:47PM): yeah, talk to you soon :)_ **

**_B (5:48PM): Thanks again for all your advice and stuff. I don't know what I'd do without you. :)_ **

Marceline smiled down at B's last text. ' _I don't know what I'd do without you'._ Yet another thing nobody had ever said to her before. It made her feel warm and fuzzy, and she found it physically impossible to wipe the giant, goofy grin from her face.

With a soft flutter in her stomach, Marceline picked up her textbook and went back to her English work.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bonnibel meets Ash.

"Come on, wake up."

Bonnibel tugged the warm sheets over her head in an attempt to block out the voice. She knew that it wasn't anything important, probably just the last lingering moment of her dream.

" _Bonnibel_ , oh my god, get _up_." This time, the voice was coupled with a harsh shove to her side. In an effort to resist, Bonnie hid her face in her pillow. "You're not fooling me. I know you're awake."

"Ugh, go away. Business hours are between ten and five. Any time between that is me time." Bonnie grumbled. She refused to leave the warm sanctuary that was her bed. No way was she getting up.

The laugh that followed did nothing to soothe her. No, that definitely wasn't good. "Good thing it's ten-thirty, isn't it?"

Bonnie scowled and finally rolled over in her bed, shooting Lady her best glare. Although Finn and Jake weren't involved in disturbing her, she still sent them one too, albeit it was slightly less vicious. "What do you want?"

"Really? No 'hey, Lady, how are you today'? God, I'm regretting coming over here now." Lady folded her arms across her chest and exhaled in exasperation. "We're going shopping. Do you want to come or not?"

Bonnibel blinked in confusion. She wasn't used to so many questions on a morning. If she was being a hundred percent honest, she wasn't used to being invited out, either. "Uh… I mean, I guess? I might as well, considering you woke me up."

"Well, forgive me for assuming that you'd already be up." Lady easily shot back. "You're usually very punctual on a morning."

Bonnibel sat up and rolled her shoulders back in a shrug. "Yeah, but it's the weekend. I didn't have anywhere to be, so I figured I'd sleep in."

"Well, hurry up," Lady prompted her, "Elle gets all high strung when we're not on time."

"Elle is always high strung when people don't stick to her schedules." Finn replied. His voice was only at the volume of a mutter, but Bonnie caught it.

Apparently, Jake had heard it too. "Yeah, trust me, you don't want to get on her bad side. She probably already knows every one of your little secrets."

That definitely didn't sound good. Nope. Someone who found it easy to figure out what a person was hiding was usually the type of person Bonnie avoided like the plague. With her, only the people that needed to know something would know about it.

Sarcasm seemed the best route to take for a response.

"That's not very comforting, you know." Bonnie swung her legs over the side of her bed and stood up. She straightened out her nightgown and then walked over to her closet. "What time do we have to meet her by?"

"She wants us to be at the mall for half eleven. We'll go wait downstairs for you to get ready." Lady nodded towards Bonnie's bedroom door, and Finn and Jake both smiled at her before leaving. "Don't take too long, we have a twenty minute drive to the mall from here."

"Aye aye, captain," Bonnie mock saluted her, "I won't take too long. Promise."

* * *

"Honestly, Lady," Bonnie tried reassuring her friend for the millionth time, "I'll be fine. I've lived here long enough to know where the bookstore is and not get lost."

"Are you sure you don't want someone to go with you?" Finn cut in before Lady could insist on keeping her company. "Because one of us can come along just in case."

"No, really, that's fine," Bonnie quickly shot him down. "I don't want anyone to come. I'll be perfectly fine. I won't wander down a dark alleyway and get mugged. I'm just going to the bookstore and then I'll meet you guys in the food court."

"Come on, guys," Elle rolled her eyes, mostly at Lady. "If Bonnibel says she'll be fine, she'll be fine. We're already behind on schedule and I have a nail appointment at four. Let's _go_ , I want to buy this dress before anyone else does. It's so cute and if I wait too long-"

"Alright, Elle," Phoebe was the one to cut Elle off, and then she quickly turned to Bonnie, "We'll see you in half an hour."

Before Lady could protest about how Bonnie wasn't oriented enough to make her way to the bookstore and back to the mall by herself, the strawberry blonde spun on her heels and walked away from her friends, making a conscious effort to take speedier strides.

It wasn't that hard for her to find the bookstore, and she stepped inside and pulled her phone out. It was half past two, so she'd meet back with her friends at three. If she was a minute later, she assumed that Lady would call the police, fire brigade and possibly animal control to find her, so she decided she'd pick out a book as quickly as she could.

She headed towards the science fiction shelves, and skipped past the books she'd already read – there were a lot of those – to find something decent. She scanned through the titles, picking out Orwell's _1984_. She'd avoided reading it in the past, mostly because stories about totalitarian governments weren't really her thing, but she decided to give it a try. If she didn't like it, she could always give it to Peter.

She flicked through the book with mild interest, smiling to herself at the clean, pristinely kept pages. _No anonymous friends will be made through this book_ , she thought to herself with a vaguely nostalgic smile.

Quickly, she crossed over to the counter to pay for it, thanking the cashier for the quick service, and then made her way about of the store, humming along to a song that was stuck in her head; she had trouble placing the melody, though.

She didn't expect to collide with something. Or someone.

She stepped backwards in shock and held out her hand in front of her to steady herself. "Whoa, sorry."

"Hey," The response was softer than expected and shocked Bonnibel enough to look up. Marceline. She'd bumped right into Marceline. "Don't worry about it."

"Sorry for not paying attention." Bonnie apologised anyway; it was the polite thing to do. "You kind of look like you're in pain."

At the latter half of Bonnie's apology, Marceline seemed to tense up and shook her head quickly enough to give herself whiplash. "No, I'm okay. I just… fell down the stairs earlier. I'm kind of-"

An arm fell around Marceline's shoulder and she cut herself off, her demeanour shifting completely. Shifting to _what_ , however, Bonnie didn't have time to calculate. She was more concerned by the boy – no, _man_ – who was standing before her, his shadow blocking off the pathway of the sun's bright rays that were shining through the mall's mostly glass ceiling.

"What's the hold up, Marce?" The man's gaze swept over her in judgement, as though he was trying to calculate her worth through the way she presented herself. Bonnie tended to avoid people like that. "Is she a friend of yours?"

The man's tone had something underneath it, something that made the hairs on the back of Bonnie's neck stand up. She didn't like him one bit.

Marceline shook her head again. "No, Ash. She isn't."

"Really?" Ash raised an eyebrow and sent Marceline an odd look. Bonnie had trouble deciphering it, but she understood that it wasn't a good look. She was kind of surprised when she had to push down the oncoming glare she was planning on sending him. "You seemed pretty friendly to me. You know how I feel about lying, Marce."

"She's not my friend," Marceline's tone was much more clipped when she repeated that, and she turned to Bonnibel with a rather vicious glare that took the strawberry blonde girl aback. "Listen, walk into me like that again and I won't hesitate to do something doubly as painful back. Got it?"

Bonnibel blinked in confusion before realising that Marceline was threatening her. Weren't they past that? "I really don't think that's necessary. I know that we're not friends, but it's not like we're mortal enemies either. You shouldn't be so rude."

"Are you going to let her talk to you like that, Marceline?" It was obvious that Ash was trying to push Marceline, for reasons unknown to Bonnie. " _God_ , you're not so useless that you can let this girl shut you up, are you?"

Bonnibel folded her arms across her chest and sent Ash a frown. "I don't like the way you're talking to her."

Both Ash and Marceline seemed to do some sort of double take, and if the situation wasn't as serious as it was, Bonnie might've laughed. She saw Marceline shake her head, but she wasn't stopping. Although she didn't like her in the slightest, she wasn't just going to walk away when this guy was clearly trying to antagonise her.

Ash actually did laugh. "Who do you think you're talking to? I'm-"

"I don't care who you are." Bonnibel cut over him, and although she appeared confident, she was shaking inside. He could break her arm in two seconds, and she didn't want to make him mad. "But Marceline and I are going, and you're not coming with us."

Marceline made no comment, and instead squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could. Bonnie assumed that she was trying to phase herself out of this reality and into another, if that was humanly possible.

"I can't believe you're not defending me." Ash sent Marceline the biggest glare he could. "You're just standing there. You're so fucking useless, Marce. Jesus."

Marceline looked at Bonnie and sucked in a deep breath. "It's true. I promised Bonnibel that I'd meet her and we'd go over what we're doing about our science project. Remember? The one I told you about."

Ash laughed, but it wasn't light-hearted or relaxed in any way. It was more bitter and resentful. "Oh, _that_ makes sense. Isn't this that bitch you told me about?"

"Yeah," Marceline pulled herself from Ash's grip, "and I'd rather get the project over and done with than have to spend more time with her later. I just forgot to mention that we were meeting."

Ash opened his mouth to respond, but Bonnie cut him off, addressing Marceline and ignoring him completely. "God, same here. Spending time with you is probably just as torturous as being trapped in a room full of deathly poisonous spiders."

Bonnie slowly started walking, and Marceline picked up on this and followed her. "Yeah? Well spending time with you is as bad as standing on hot coals for eight hours straight."

Bonnibel barked out a sarcastic laugh, but it turned into a genuine one when she saw Ash walking away from them in her peripheral vision. "Very funny. Who was that, anyway? He seemed like he was at least a few years older than you. Why are you hanging out with him?"

Marceline seemed to bristle and close herself off at the exact millisecond Bonnie started asking questions. "That's none of your business."

"Hey, just asking," Bonnie held her hands up in defence, "and you're welcome, by the way."

Marceline just shook her head. "Just- don't do that again, okay? Stay out of my business. We're not friends."

Surprised by the sudden change of mood and the little tug in her stomach, Bonnibel's face sunk into a frown, her eyebrows knitting together. "What? I just _helped_ you. I think I'm owed a thank you."

"I didn't ask you to help me." Marceline scowled at her. "I don't want to have to fucking owe you."

"Hey, you don't- _Marceline_ ," Bonnibel tried to grab the other girl's wrist as she spun on her heels and started to walk away from her. "Why are you like this all the time? _God_ , you're so- ugh, fine! You know what? I won't help you next time."

Marceline didn't seem to pay any attention to her as she walked further away and eventually out of sight. With a deep sigh, Bonnibel rolled up her sleeve and checked the time. Ten to three.

For a moment, she debated going after Marceline and explaining herself, but really, she couldn't be bothered with the inevitable insults and sarcastic comments. They weren't friends; it wasn't Bonnie's duty to make sure that she was okay.

So, she pushed Marceline from her mind. Instead of following her and trying to make the other girl understand that Bonnibel didn't want something for her help, she turned and headed in the direction of the store her friends had promised to meet her in.

She was surprised when it took a lot more effort than usual to get the other girl out of her head.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bonnie admits something to her anonymous friend.

"Dude, no!" Finn shoved his brother away from him as he tried to control his character on the television screen. "That's not fair, you can't just attack me in real life to distract me. I've never beaten Marshall before, and I-"

"Suck it up, Finn," Marshall turned his head in Finn's direction and stuck his tongue out, "Face it, I'm the Halo champion."

Bonnie, uninterested by video games and whatever was going on in the virtual world her friends were in, was half listening to Elle's gossip. Apparently, Marceline had punched someone outside of school the other day. Lady and Phoebe seemed to find this interesting, rolling their eyes and tutting in disapproval in all the right places, but Bonnie found it hard to believe.

(Elle's 'reliable source' turned out to be Melissa, so Bonnie was taking everything with a grain of salt.)

In fact, she didn't really think that Marceline would punch someone unprovoked. She wasn't defending her at all, but she'd seen the way that Marceline was with Keila, and Keila had mentioned that she didn't get mad all that much. It didn't add up. And considering that Keila was her best friend… it'd make sense for her to know more than Melissa.

Instead of fretting over whatever they were talking about, how Ash might've made her do it or something, Bonnie stretched and jerked her head towards the door. "I'm going to the bathroom."

Marshall was quick to reel the directions off to her, not that she needed them. She'd been here before, on her little study day with Marceline when they were working on their project. That definitely wasn't the best day of her life.

She wasn't actually going to the bathroom, anyway. She'd decided that she was going to explore.

She pushed open the door to the lounge, pausing before she exited completely. "Anyone want me to get them a drink or something while I'm up?"

"Can you grab me another soda, please?" Finn craned his neck around and sent her a soft smile before turning back to his game before Marshall could beat him.

"Okay," She turned to address the rest of the room, "anyone else want anything? Would the ladies like some wine?"

"Dude, no, don't take the wine, that's Marceline's." Marshall had apparently not picked up on the sarcastic intonation in Bonnie's voice, but she was more surprised about how he'd addressed her directly. As of late, conversation between them was still kind of forced and awkward. "There's all sorts of stuff, though."

"Can you grab me a bottle of water, too?" Elle asked her, "All this talking is making my throat dry."

"Yeah, no problem." Bonnibel nodded and quickly slipped out of the room and into the kitchen.

She crossed over to the fridge and pulled out a can of soda for Finn and a water bottle for Elle. Quickly, she jogged back into the lounge and passed everyone their drinks. After they'd all thanked her, she stretched and made her way into the hallway by the front door.

She'd looked around the ground floor of the house enough, she decided. All that was there was the lounge, kitchen and downstairs bathroom, all which Bonnibel didn't find that interesting. So, she turned left and headed up the stairs.

She came out on a landing and opened the first door she saw. Not much behind it – a room with a bed and a wardrobe, which Bonnibel presumed was a guest room.

She stumbled upon another bathroom next, significantly roomier than the other. This one had a bath and shower, and Bonnibel assumed that it was the bathroom Marshall used. The room with its door left open turned out to be his, too – at least, Bonnie assumed by how messy it was. He didn't seem the type to keep his bedroom tidy.

After this, there were only two more rooms left for her to look in. She hoped she'd find something interesting, as this little exploration trip really wasn't that exciting so far.

She pushed open the door that was closest to her, and immediately froze when she was met with a pair of piercing green eyes.

"Uh…hi?" Bonnibel cringed when she heard the voice. She was caught. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, sorry," Bonnie quickly blurted out an apology, "I was just… bored with my friends and I went to explore. I didn't realise you were here."

"I _do_ live here, you know." Marceline raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, and Bonnie was relieved when she looked more amused than mad. "If you're so bored with whatever your friends are doing, why don't you just go home?"

"There isn't anything for me to do at home." Bonnie awkwardly drummed her fingers against the door in a rhythmic pattern. "Peter is out at work, so I'd be home alone. Plus, I've finished all my homework."

"Nerd," Marceline scoffed, "What're your friends even doing down there? Occasionally I hear a few shouts, but it's mostly just silence. Are you meditating or something?"

Bonnie was surprised when she actually laughed, and it wasn't forced or sarcastic. "Finn, Jake and Marshall are playing some sort of video game together, and Lady, Phoebe, Fionna and Elle are gossiping."

"Gossiping?" Marceline repeated, her gaze flicking back to her computer screen. "I didn't take you for the type to gossip."

"I don't. I was only half listening to them because there wasn't much else to do." Bonnie shrugged nonchalantly, and was careful with her next words. "Apparently you punched someone on Friday."

Marceline snorted, and Bonnie wasn't sure if it was indignant or amused. "Apparently I've done a lot of things."

"So you didn't." That was all Bonnie concluded from that. "I kind of assumed that Elle's story was made up. Her source was Melissa, who really isn't all that reliable, no matter what Elle insists."

"You didn't… uh, believe it?" Marceline seemed genuinely confused, and Bonnie was stunned when she felt a little pang in her chest. A pang of _what_ , she wasn't sure. "Cool. Uh, I'm sorry about last week, by the way. I feel like I was exceptionally mean then. It was just, Ash-"

Bonnibel cut her off as quickly as she could; she could tell that Marceline wasn't exactly comfortable with explaining whatever she was about to explain to her. "It's okay. Bygones. We're still civil and you don't have to explain yourself to me."

Marceline frowned at her, but nodded. "Alright. You should probably get back to your friends. They'll be wondering where you are."

Bonnibel blinked in confusion, before she relaxed and bobbed her head in concurrence. "Right. I'll see you around."

Marceline nodded, and although it was barely anything, the corner of her mouth twitched up in an almost-smile. "See you around."

Out of courtesy, Bonnie closed Marceline's bedroom door behind her and then made her way back downstairs to her friends. They didn't ask her where she'd been, which was relieving. Apparently they were still all too invested in whatever they were doing.

She sunk down in her previous spot on the couch and pulled her phone out of her pocket, turning the cold device over in her hands.

Deciding to occupy herself, she opened a certain text conversation and began typing. Anything was better than gossiping and video games.

* * *

Marceline had returned to staring at a blank Word document after she'd heard Bonnibel go back downstairs. She'd been trying to write a good song for a few days, but she had nothing to write about. Not much had happened lately. Aside from the odd calmness between herself and Bonnibel, there was nothing else on her mind.

She was almost relieved when her pinged on her bedside table.

Grabbing it, she beamed down at the text message. It was from B.

_**B (2:39PM): Hello there, friend. I hope your day is going well. :)** _

_**Marceline (2:40PM): my day is alright, kinda boring but it's to be expected when it's the weekend and you're not doing anything. how's your day going?** _

Marceline locked her phone, but didn't bother reaching over to drop it on her nightstand. She knew that B was a fast texter, and she'd only just brought her hand back up to the trackpad of her laptop when her phone buzzed again.

_**B (2:41PM): Oh, same here. Sundays are usually boring, though. I'm the type of girl who finishes all of her homework as early as I can and then I remember that I have nothing else to do all weekend. I could start a new TV show, but I doubt I'd finish it before Monday.** _

_**Marceline (2:41PM): ugh, don't remind me that it's monday tomorrow, I hate them so much :(** _

That was probably the only thing she'd told B that was actually common knowledge. Everyone knew that Marceline hated Mondays. And Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays.

(Not so much Friday, only the part where she was at school.)

_**B (2:41PM): Aw, is someone grumpy that she has to go to school?** _

_**B (2:42PM): I bet you're one of those people that wakes up in the morning and refuses to get out of bed. "Five more minutes, mom," is probably one of your most overused statements. Not that that's a bad thing – being well rested is important.** _

Marceline read a particular section of that second message over again. Yeah. She wished she could refuse to get out of bed on a morning and laugh when her mom jokingly threatened her with ice cubes.

Instead, she just had her stoic father.

_**Marceline (2:43PM): honestly it's not even the whole getting up early thing that I don't like** _

_**Marceline (2:43PM): it's more along the lines of the whole school thing, being around my peers. rumours suck if you didn't know that.** _

There was a small break in the responses then. Marceline saw B start to type, then erase what she'd been writing. Marceline clamped her teeth down on her bottom lip in worry. Had she said too much? Nasty rumours and the first letter of her name might've given her away.

She wasn't sure what to feel when a text finally came through.

_**B (2:44PM): There are rumours about you? That sucks.** _

_**Marceline (2:44PM): tell me about it** _

_**B (2:45PM): But hey, I doubt any of them are true. Teenagers can be real jerks sometimes. Everyone judges people they don't know personally. Hell, sometimes you even judge the people you're closest to. But the whole point of us being anonymous to each other (even if Keila knows who we're talking to) is that there isn't any judgement. And you know that I wouldn't believe squat unless it came out of your mouth.** _

_**B (2:46PM): Or…phone, I guess. ;)** _

Marceline had to read that a few times for it to sink in properly. Although B had said before that she cared, it was nice to hear it. Or… see it, in this case. Either way, she screenshotted that for future reference.

Instead of replying to tell B how much that meant to her, she acted like a giant dork. Naturally.

_**Marceline (2:47PM): the rumours are terrible and cruel but honey, most of them are true ;)** _

_**B (2:47PM): Ah, a fellow Swiftie! Good to know we have something more than a love for clone drama in common. :) New Romantics is one of her super catchy songs. What's your favourite by her?** _

_**Marceline (2:48PM): it changes sometimes but it always comes back to All Too Well** _

_**Marceline (2:48PM): that song is a fucking masterpiece** _

_**B (2:49PM): While I wouldn't use that kind of language to describe it, it is a beautiful song. Easily one of the best. My favourite is probably Treacherous or Back to December.** _

_**B (2:49PM): Although Ours is really cute too.** _

So B liked slow songs. Marceline decided to keep that in mind. It might be useful information if she ever played for her over the phone.

_**Marceline (2:49PM): back to december? recent breakup? ;)** _

Marceline frowned at the text after she'd sent it. Was that overstepping any boundaries? She wasn't sure. If B was offended, Marceline would just say it was intended to be a joke and the sarcasm hadn't translated well.

_**B (2:50PM): I mean, kind of. Maybe. It was an almost break up.** _

_**Marceline (2:51PM): want any advice?** _

_**B (2:51PM): Yes please. Any and all advice is one hundred percent welcome. One hundred percent needed, too. The basics of the whole thing are that a friend of mine asked me out, and although he's a really great guy, I just don't like him like that. But the thing is, every other girl in school would kill to date him. And I can see why, because physically he's attractive, and yet I don't like him romantically?** _

Marceline blinked down at her phone screen, her gaze gravitating towards the last line. Almost immediately, her mind jumped to something, but she tried to push that down. There were millions of logical explanations.

_**Marceline (2:52PM): have you ever had a boyfriend? or a crush on a boy?** _

_**B (2:52PM): No. I kind of always assumed that I'd get into that stuff when I got older. I've always been more focused on other things. Is that weird? I've been asked out by boys before, but I've never felt anything more than neutral.** _

Well, all that did was solidify what Marceline was thinking, but she decided to keep digging. More information equated to better advice, right?

_**Marceline (2:53PM): can you remember a time when you ever felt nervous around anyone? or just weird in any way?** _

_**B (2:53PM): Well, there was this one time when I was around thirteen when I made friends with this girl, but that was just because she intimidated me. She was a year older and much prettier, so I always felt a little inadequate around her. Why?** _

Marceline paused before typing out her next message. Honestly, she wasn't sure how B would take it, but hopefully she'd be open minded.

She sucked in a deep breath and pressed the 'send' button on the screen.

_**Marceline (2:54PM): maybe you're gay** _

Marceline waited with baited breath for B's reply. She saw that her friend had started typing, stopped, and started again, clearly unsure of how to respond.

Eventually, her phone vibrated.

_**B (2:56PM): Pretty sure that's not it. I just haven't found the right boy yet. I obviously don't like girls like that. Sure, I can appreciate their beauty, but that's just envy. Not that there's anything wrong with liking other girls. It's just…that's not what this is.** _

As Marceline read it over a few more times, it came off as more defensive than she assumed as intended. Maybe she'd freaked her out. She should apologise.

_**Marceline (2:57PM): okay no worries** _

_**Marceline (2:58PM): only you can define that kind of thing, you know?** _

_**B (2:58PM): Yeah, I'm definitely not gay.** _

_**B (2:59PM): My friends are trying to get me to play some fighting video game. I'll talk to you later?** _

Marceline blinked down at the screen. That was sudden. She couldn't help but wonder if she'd messed things up.

_**Marceline (2:59PM): uh, yeah. bye.** _

_**B (3:00PM): And thanks for your help, M. It's awesome to know that I can always count on you to be honest with me. I like that. x** _

_**Marceline (3:00PM): have fun playing the fighting game with your friends, yeah?** _

_**B (3:01PM): Yeah. I'll tell you how terrible I am at it later. :)** _

Marceline didn't bother replying to that and set her phone down on her nightstand. She leaned back against the headboard of her bed and breathed out a sigh of… relief? Content? Marceline couldn't tell. She pulled her laptop back onto her stomach and clicked on the Word document she had open.

Suddenly she was feeling a lot more inspired to finish that song.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bonnie goes to a beach party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates on this aren't going to be regular anymore. They'll still be on a Wednesday but they aren't going to be every week. I'm not in a good place right now and I don't want to push myself by writing new chapters weekly when exam period is coming up and focusing on school is my priority. Sorry if I inconvenienced anyone. A Love Like War will keep updating every Friday if you read that and were wondering.

"Okay, come again?"

Jake rolled his eyes. "We're going to the beach. Are you coming with us or not?"

"Um," Bonnie hesitated and looked past Jake to his car, where Finn, Elle and Lady were sat. They were actually serious. They were going to the beach at seven at night in the middle of February. "You're crazy. We'll freeze."

"Actually, it's kind of nice out." Jake commented, glancing around himself. "It's sort of a Glassrock tradition. The first nice day of the year, there's a party on the beach later. You should come. Everyone is there, usually."

Bonnibel hummed in thought and leaned against the doorframe. "What do you guys do?"

Jake shrugged, and Bonnie could tell that he was starting to become impatient. "Not much. We just hang out and have fun, you know?"

Bonnie pushed herself from the doorframe and grabbed her purple sneakers from where they were sat by the radiator. "Alright, I'll come along. How far away is it?"

"Around ten minutes." Jake replied, "The party is on the sands and there's a load of stores on the roadside if you want to look in those. Considering you're not into drinking, you'll probably want to look around the stores."

Bonnie finished pulling on her shoes, and she grabbed her coat on her way out of the door for good measure. "Okay. Am I in the backseat?"

Jake opened the back left car door for her in confirmation. "Yeah. Hope you're okay with being in there with Finn and Elle. They can be loud on drives."

Bonnie laughed as she sat down, but didn't comment. Instead, she greeted her other friends with a smile. "Hey, guys."

Elle beamed at her. "Hey, Bonnibel. We didn't think you'd come. Phoebe texted and said that you probably wouldn't like the whole party thing."

"Parties aren't my scene, I will agree," Bonnie shrugged, "but still, I figured it'd be nice to…open up. Try new things."

"It'll be super fun," Finn told her, "I went last year for the first time and it was _great_. I don't really remember it all that much, but it was still cool."

Lady laughed. Judging by the look on Finn's face, what she was about to say wasn't good, at least for him. Everyone else's smirks set off some alarm bells. "Finn drank a little too much of the Coke that was available. Turns out it was mixed with vodka and he ended up wasted."

"Wasn't it Marshall who spiked it?" Jake laughed and glanced at his brother in the rear-view mirror.

"He said it wasn't." Finn muttered and sent Lady his best scowl. Apparently he hadn't wanted that story to resurface. "But it was probably one of his friends."

"Maybe it was Ash," Elle's face morphed into one of disgust at the mention of this person, "He's a total wad. I'd expect that kind of thing from him."

"Ash?" Bonnie frowned in confusion, "Does he go to our school?"

"He graduated a year ago but didn't get into any colleges. Mostly he just hangs around town, drinking. He can be kind of violent at times, too." Jake explained. Bonnie decided that she really didn't like him. She wasn't one to judge from rumours, but that was a bit too much.

Lady added a little bit of extra information. "He's also Marceline's boyfriend."

Alarm bells rang in Bonnie's head. She'd met him before, about a month ago when she'd ran into them. Marceline had been especially mean on that particular occasion, and _Ash_ was a different story all together. Not only had he been rude to her, the way he'd spoken to Marceline…

But Bonnie didn't care about that.

She resolved to change the subject. "Well, I'll probably get a bottle of water from one of the stores you guys mentioned. I'd rather not end up drunk by accident."

"Sounds like a good plan." Finn commented, "I think I'll do the same."

"That'd be wise," Lady sent him a fond smile, "We don't want another hangover like that, do we, Finn?"

Finn shuddered at the memory. Bonnie couldn't relate – she'd never been drunk, so she hadn't experienced a hangover before. She should probably count herself lucky.

Elle smiled, "So, Bonnie, I have someone for you to meet later. I've texted him and he's going to be here, so-"

Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "Him?"

"I told you I was going to set you up." Elle reminded her, "He's called Braco and he's really cool. He's your type, too."

Bonnie couldn't recall telling Elle specifically what her 'type' was, and although she hadn't wanted to be set up, the thought was nice. For all she knew, she could end up really liking the guy.

(Besides, it got her mind off what M had said the other day.)

She remained silent for the rest of the drive, barring a few times when she contributed to the conversation to back up someone's point in a mini-debate. She didn't need to hear Jake's "we're here" – the loud music was enough of a giveaway. A mini-stage had been set up and there was a band playing, but Bonnie couldn't make out any of the members. All she could tell was that it was some form of rock music.

She followed her friends down to the beach and watched as they spread out a few towels, Lady and Elle dumping their bags down on them. Finn flopped down too, so Bonnie followed his lead and sat, looking around at all of her already tipsy classmates.

She turned to him with a smile, "So, what're we going to do for the night?"

He didn't give her a very helpful reply. "Hang out. I'm going to go and get a drink if you want one."

"Uh," Bonnie looked around. Jake and Lady had melted into the crowds and Elle was talking to a muscular boy over by the punch bowl, "Yeah, alright. I'll watch the bags."

He flashed her a smile and stood up, stretching out his arms. "Okay. I'll be two seconds."

She watched as he disappeared into the crowds, heading away from the sand and towards the storefronts parallel to them. Then, she resorted to picking at her pink nail polish as she waited for him, her other friends all too busy to hold a conversation with her.

"Hey, Bonnibel," A familiar voice greeted her. Bonnie beamed when Keila flopped down next to her, her smile faltering when Marceline followed her lead. "I didn't think you would be coming here."

"You know, a lot of people have said that," Bonnie laughed, "Are you two having fun?"

"Yeah," Keila bobbed her head in confirmation and slung an arm around Marceline's shoulder, apparently not noticing her friend's wince. Bonnie just rolled her eyes. If Marceline was in so much pain, maybe she should think twice about getting herself into fights. "We played a set earlier which was cool, and now I think we're both planning on getting drunk. Right, Marce?"

Marceline hummed in response. "Yeah. I guess."

Out of mere curiosity, Bonnie carefully asked, "Is your boyfriend here?"

Marceline didn't meet her gaze and shrugged. "Somewhere around, probably."

She frowned and looked up to Keila, attempting to communicate 'is she okay?' through a look in her eyes. Keila apparently understood what she was asking, as she mimed back 'she's just tired' and then squeezed Marceline's shoulders again. Another wince.

"So, are you alone? If you are, Marce and I will keep you company." Keila offered, but eyed the bags Bonnie was watching over. "Judging by those, you're here with friends."

"Kind of," Bonnie let out an awkward laugh, "Finn just left to buy water for us both, Jake and Lady are talking to people, Elle is with… I think Brad, but I don't know, and Phoebe and Fionna aren't here as far as I know."

"We can chill with you until Finn gets back," Keila resolved and stretched out on the towels they were sat on, "Better than hanging with the guys since they're all stoned."

"Pretty sure Guy's just drunk," Marceline corrected her. Bonnie followed the other girl's gaze over to a group of guys about ten feet away from them. They were smoking, but Bonnie was fairly certain that it wasn't just a normal cigarette that they were passing around. "Either way, intoxicated guys aren't that fun to be around."

"I second that," Keila laughed, "Intoxicated _girls_ , though…"

Bonnie shifted uncomfortably. "Are you… gay?"

Obviously she wouldn't have a problem with that if Keila was, but knowing that there was a chance that _Bonnie_ might be gay had made the topic of sexualities a little uncomfortable for her. Even though Bonnie _knew_ that she was straight, the thought wouldn't get out of her head. It was always there, at the back of her mind, mocking her as she tried to ignore it.

Keila sent her an odd look. "No. Marceline is bi and I'm pan."

Bonnie knew of bisexuality, but the other thing? Not at all. "Pan?"

"Pansexual." Keila explained, "If I'm going to simplify it, it means that you don't care about the gender of the person you date. You like all genders. Bisexuality is liking two or more genders. In Marceline's case, she likes guys and girls."

Bonnie looked over to Marceline for more explanation. "I bet that kind of thing was…hard to figure out."

Marceline probably would've responded if she could've. She looked like she was about to, but a dark shadow fell over them and Bonnie looked away to see Ash. She didn't miss the way Marceline seemed to tense up as though it was her natural reaction.

"Marceline," Ash didn't smile at her as he jerked his head towards his friends, "Come on. We're going."

Marceline didn't even hesitate. Silently, she rose to her feet and went to follow Ash, but Keila grabbed onto her wrist. "You're not seriously going with him, are you?"

Ash sent Keila a scathing look. "What? I'm her _boyfriend_. She's coming with me."

He grabbed Marceline's arm and yanked her from Keila's grip, apparently not caring when Marceline let out a soft hiss in pain. In fact, Bonnie was the only one to notice. She didn't comment, though, just stared at her feet until Marceline and Ash were out of earshot. Then, she looked up to Keila and decided not to talk about what had just happened.

Apparently, Keila had a different idea. "I can't believe she's still dating him."

Bonnie's face sunk into a frown. "How long have they been together?"

"A year, on and off. She broke up with him twice but she always ends up going back." Keila sighed, "She deserves so much better."

Bonnie glanced over to Marceline's disappearing silhouette. She didn't make a comment on that last part; although Marceline was much less abrasive towards her as of late, they still weren't friends. It wasn't Bonnie's place.

Instead, she kept her mouth shut and listened to Keila's rant.

* * *

 

"Bonnibel!" Elle threw her arms around Bonnie's shoulders and pulled her in for a bone-crushingly tight hug. "Listen, I have a boyfriend for you. He's around here somewhere and I need to find him."

Bonnie let out an awkward laugh and tried to shuffle away from Elle. "I think you need to sit down for a moment. I'm sure you can introduce me to your friend once you've sobered up a little bit."

Finn extended one of the water bottles he'd bought in Bonnie's direction, and she smiled gratefully. She unscrewed the cap and gave it to Elle, waiting for her to drink. She steadied her friend and sat her down in the little space between Finn and herself, and then looked over to Lady for some form of explanation.

Lady only supplied her with a shrug. "She gets a little friendly when she's drunk."

Bonnie hummed, shifting uncomfortably as Elle tried hugging her again. "Yeah, I kind of realised that."

"Um, Elle?" A soft male voice from behind them was enough to stop Elle from trying to grab hold of Bonnie's earrings. "You said you wanted me to meet someone?"

"Braco!" Elle exclaimed, spinning around on the spot and almost toppling over. Luckily for her, Finn and Jake grabbed her and pulled her upright again. "Yes, this is Bonnibel. She's the girl I was telling you about."

Elle tried to point at Bonnie and jabbed a finger in her general direction, but she ended up pointing about half a foot away from her. Lady had to direct her hand to the right place.

Awkwardly, Bonnie smiled and cleared her throat. "Uh, yeah, hi. I'm Bonnibel."

Braco sent her a warm smile and nodded towards the water. "Would you like to go for a walk?"

Bonnie cast a glance towards a drunken Elle, who was nodding enthusiastically, and the rest of her friends who didn't seem to have an opinion. She decided that she might as well give him a chance. After all, she could end up liking him a lot, and liking Braco was a good thing.

Liking Braco would be _normal_.

She nodded and stood up, brushing any residual sand from her jeans. "Yes, I'd like that."

Braco beamed and placed a hand of the small on her back. Bonnie flinched and pulled away a little in dicomfort. He was leading her away from her friends, but Bonnie tried not to worry about that. If he was a friend of Elle's, he had to be a good guy.

Once they were out of earshot of her friends, he spoke. "So, you're from England?"

Bonnie laughed, "What gave me away?"

"Oh, you know," Braco looked down to his feet with a reserved smile, "I've heard that British girls are prettier."

Bonnie expected her stomach to flip, her breath to catch in her throat and her cheeks to stain red. She'd expected nervousness, butterflies at his compliment, to feel like Elle had told her she was supposed to feel.

She felt nothing.

"That's sweet," She tried to appreciate his compliment, but really, all she was thinking about was _oh my god what if M was right_. "So, the accent didn't give me away?"

"Accent?" Braco raised a questioning eyebrow, but his half-smile gave him away. "Would you believe that I didn't even notice?"

Bonnie laughed, but it came out a little forced. Honestly, she was more focused on regulating her heartbeat, and it wasn't pounding because of his compliments. It was trying to break through her chest in fear.

Why wasn't she feeling anything? Why wasn't heat rising to her cheeks? Her stomach was supposed to be jittery, performing backflips and making her feel excited with anticipation, maybe for a date or a kiss on the cheek.

She wrung her hands together, hoping that Braco would assume it was just nervous habit. Focusing her eyes on him – he was recounting a story, an anecdote about the time he went to Florida which she really wasn't paying much attention to – she tried to push any bad thoughts from her mind. That's what she'd resolved to do after her talk with M. There was no way that she liked girls. No.

"…so, I was about to go down this _huge_ waterslide, when-" Braco paused and tilted his head to the side, "Are you alright? You look kind of sick."

Bonnie determined that she _was_ sick. That was obviously why she wasn't responding properly to Braco's compliments. Clearly, she was just feeling under the weather. It wasn't the other thing, the thing that she was definitely going to push down and keep locked up. _Repress it, Bonnie_ , she told herself, _just don't think about it and it'll go away._

She put a hand to her forehead and feigned surprise, hoping that he'd believe that she was feeling ill. "Oh, yeah, I do feel kind of warm."

"Maybe we should get you away from all the noise of the party. Doesn't seem like a good idea to be around loud music and drunk teens." Bonnibel didn't even register it when Braco put an arm around her waist and led her away from the mini-stage, down towards a quieter half of the beach. "Personally, I don't see the appeal of drinking. Why bother? You won't remember the night in the morning."

Bonnie should've been falling head over heels for this guy. She could see why Elle had picked him over anyone else; his view on drinking and parties was similar to hers, he seemed rather studious and put-together. He was _perfect_ for her.

And yet, she felt absolutely nothing.

 _Repress_ , she reminded herself as they were a comfortable distance away from everyone. He sat her down on the sand, just a small space left between them and the water.

She let out a soft breath and nodded in a delayed response to his statement. "Yeah, I totally agree. I don't see the appeal, either. I'd rather have a quiet night in than go out to a party."

"Me too," He beamed, looking at her like she was the very first piece of treasure he'd found after a lifelong search. Bonnie tried to make herself feel like that about him, too. "Watching Netflix or studying is the way I like to go."

"Studying?" Bonnibel raised an eyebrow. She tried to keep her tone light and comical, but that was hard when the only thought going through her mind was _you should like him and you don't, what if M was right and you're gay?_

Braco cringed and let out a soft laugh, "Yeah, I probably shouldn't have mentioned that. Whenever my interest in mathematics comes up around pretty girls, it doesn't usually go down very well."

Bonnie shook her head and tried to look assuring. "No, don't worry about it. In fact, I'm quite scientific myself."

"I like science," He was quick to respond, that smile on his face again, "It's interesting, knowing how the world works."

All her life, Bonnie had dreamed of meeting someone with the same interests as her, the same love for academia as her. Now it was happening, and she still felt _nothing_. It wasn't like she felt emptiness or repulsion or anything like that. It was just…neutrality.

That was the scariest part.

"That's always what I say when people question my love for it," Bonnie smiled, "I was always a curious child."

He opened his mouth to say something else – probably to ask her which topics she found most interesting or something along those lines – but he didn't get to. He was cut off by a shout, an angry male voice that turned Bonnibel's stomach to iron.

"You fucking _bitch_ ," Ash's figure came into view, his hand clasped around Marceline's wrist, "I can't believe you. I should break up with you right here. You don't deserve me."

Bonnibel rose to her feet, a curious frown on her face. She watched in confusion as Marceline pulled her arm from Ash's grip and told him to _go fuck himself_.

Braco mimicked her, "Good call," he jerked his head to the right, "we should get out of here. Those two are bad news."

Instead of going in the direction he'd gestured towards, Bonnibel walked forwards. Straight towards Marceline and Ash, who had her shoved against an empty shack that Bonnie presumed would sell ice cream in the summer. Right now, it didn't have very positive connotations.

Ash had stopped shouting and had switched to harsh whispering, one of his hands on Marceline's shoulder, pinning her to the outside of the shack. "I swear to _god_ , if you don't do it, I'll-"

"Hey, Marceline?" Bonnie realised that she had to be careful, practising a level of confidence in her voice. She knew that if she sounded frightened for even a fraction of a second, Ash would pick up on it. "I'm getting quite tired and you said you would give me a lift. Can we set off now?"

At the sound of her voice, Ash let go of Marceline completely and stepped back a few paces, sending Bonnie a polite smile as if he hadn't just been pinning his girlfriend to a wall. She knew it was only a ploy, and that his violent side would come back quickly if Bonnie didn't get Marceline out of there.

He turned to Marceline, something threatening underneath the smile he was sending her. "You didn't tell me that you were giving someone a ride."

Marceline pushed herself from the wall with a visible wince. "Um, yeah, I kind of forgot about that."

Bonnibel mimicked Braco from earlier, and motioned towards the party by jerking her head over her shoulder. "Well, come on. I need to get home, as my uncle set a curfew and I still have a little bit of homework to complete for Monday."

Marceline's gaze flicked between her and Ash, and then she stepped forwards and followed Bonnibel back over to where Braco was stood, wide eyed and open mouthed.

He looked between Bonnibel and Marceline. "Are you two friends?"

"No," Marceline was quick to reply, but didn't quite meet Braco's gaze, "acquaintances is more accurate."

"Yeah," Bonnie was surprised they were even _that_ , "I'm going to have to head off now. I'll see you around, Braco."

"Wait," He stopped her before she could walk away, "hang out with me sometime?"

Bonnibel's gaze flicked over to Ash, who was watching them like a hawk, and then nodded, "Sure. I'll get your number from Elle when she's sober. Bye."

He waved her goodbye, and Bonnibel followed Marceline towards the party again. Her apparent new acquaintance turned to her with a frown. "Who was that guy?"

"Braco," Bonnibel answered, "Elle set me up with him."

Marceline snorted, looking back in Braco's direction. He was still watching after them with a smile. "Lame. I didn't know your type was _boring nerd_. Although, I'm surprised that I didn't figure that out. You're kind of a boring nerd too."

In an attempt to lighten up the situation – talking about that thing with Ash probably wasn't the smartest move in the world – Bonnibel smiled and replied, "Only kind of?"

Marceline laughed. She actually _laughed_ at something Bonnie had said. It wasn't even forced. It was soft, light, and most importantly, _happy_. "Nice one. Didn't expect a nerd like you to be good with comebacks."

"Well, nerds are typically smart, right?" Bonnie raised an eyebrow, "Comebacks require quick thinking, and quick thinking correlates with intelligence. Naturally, nerds are going to be good with comebacks. Simple."

Marceline blinked at her. "Did you just analyse me?"

"Slightly," Bonnie admitted, "I could go into more depth, if you'd like."

Marceline shook her head and made a sharp left, taking them off the sand and over to the storefronts. Bonnie noted Marceline's car parked in front of one of the shops. "I think we're good with the detail."

"Alright then," Bonnibel brightly responded as she climbed into Marceline's car. She buckled up her seatbelt and glanced over to the driver's seat. "Are you going to put some music on?"

Marceline completely disregarded her question. "Why didn't you ask?"

"About what?" Bonnie was fairly certain that she already knew the answer, but she asked anyway.

"About Ash," Marceline's green eyes landed on her, "and stuff."

"That's your business. We're not exactly friends, are we?" Bonnie replied. For the most part, that was true. In reality, it was also kind of because she'd assumed Marceline wouldn't have liked her prying and she'd get a punch for it. "You didn't actually have to give me a ride home, by the way. Jake was going to give me a lift."

"Yeah, well," Marceline directed her gaze to her car keys and mimicked Bonnibel's accent, "I owe you one."

Bonnie rolled her eyes, "I think we're even. And that accent was scarily accurate."

Marceline just smiled in response.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bonnie wants to know her friend's appearance.

Bonnibel closed the book by the back cover and let out a soft sigh. Now that she'd finished it, she had nothing else to do for the remainder of the day. She'd finished all of her homework earlier – the reading was a reward for that – so she couldn't distract herself with academia.

She picked up her phone and scrolled through numerous stupid games, before dropping that beside her on her bed. Stretching, she stood up and made her way downstairs, surprised when she saw Peter sat in front of the television.

"I thought you were at work?" Bonnie tilted her head to the side in confusion. "I could've sworn you said you wouldn't be back until eight."

"I was let off early." He craned his neck around to look at her. "We could go out for a meal if you'd like? We haven't spoken about how you're settling in yet."

Bonnibel leaned against the door frame she was stood by. "Uh, yeah, I guess so. That'd be nice."

"Alright." Peter flashed her a grin and picked up his phone from the coffee table. "I'll look for a restaurant online and call them to make a booking. It'll probably be… around seven?"

"That's fine. I don't have anything else to do." Bonnie stretched and then jerked her head behind her. "I'm going to head upstairs. Call me once you've booked a table."

Bonnie heard him hum in confirmation, and then she spun on her heels and made her way upstairs. She paused only for a moment to glance at the clock, letting out a deep sigh when it was only 5PM. That still left her two hours until she'd be going out.

She pushed open the door to her room and flopped down on her bed, her hand extended outwards to pick up her phone. She checked it for notifications, but there wasn't anything interesting. Naturally.

She scrolled through her contacts and pressed down on M's name, viewing the details she had. She stared at the little icon, the typical 'no profile picture' outline of an ungendered person. She kind of wished she knew what M looked like in some way, because it'd be nice to put a face to the name. Or letter.

One thing her eyes landed on was the little phone icon. She wanted to call her friend and actually talk to her, but she knew that it'd definitely give her away. Unless she faked an accent or tried to change her voice in some way, whoever she was talking to would know that it was her, and yet they'd still be anonymous.

She worried her lip between her teeth for a moment and tried to construct someone in her mind, but whatever she conjured up didn't seem to fit. Nothing seemed to fit her mystery friend.

_**Bonnie (5:09PM): Hey, can I ask you something?** _

She didn't bother putting her phone down. Instead, she kept it firmly grasped in her hand until she felt that familiar buzz. The buzz that indicated M's response. The buzz that always managed to make her smile.

_**M (5:10PM): that depends what you're going to ask** _

Bonnie blinked down at the screen. M always seemed to reply so quickly, not that she minded. It was nice to have someone there for her when she needed it.

_**Bonnie (5:10PM): What colour are your eyes? I just want some kind of detail. Something to connect with your name. Letter. Whatever.** _

_**M (5:11PM): green** _

For some odd reason, Bonnibel felt an odd little jump in her stomach. She'd always liked green eyes. In fact, the girl she was briefly friends with when she was thirteen had green eyes, and she'd always envied them; she'd found herself lost in them a few times.

But that had just been _envy_. Nothing more. Definitely not the thing that M had mentioned a few weeks prior.

_**Bonnie (5:11PM): Green eyes are gorgeous. Mine are blue. Kind of uninteresting. Green eyes, however, are my favourite. I like brown eyes a lot too. But green are definitely the prettiest.** _

_**Bonnie (5:12PM): Did you know that green is the rarest eye colour? In fact, less than two percent of the population have green eyes.** _

_**Bonnie (5:12PM): I sound like such a nerd right now. Sorry if I'm creeping you out.** _

She cringed a little at the last two messages. She knew she could ramble sometimes and she didn't want to make herself come across as awkward or weird.

But, M was her friend. She knew that she wouldn't be judged.

_**M (5:13PM): no worries. it's cute.** _

_**M (5:13PM): and I bet your eyes are super pretty too. blue eyes are pretty.** _

Again, there was that weird jump in her gut. It didn't sit well with her.

_**Bonnie (5:14PM): Thank you!** _

_**Bonnie (5:14PM): So, how was your Saturday? Fun? Or did you just spend the day in your bed? ;)** _

Bonnibel read over that last text and noticed her mistake. The accidental wink face definitely made that message a lot more awkward than intended. She just hoped that M wouldn't tease her about it.

_**Bonnie (5:14PM): I mean :)** _

_**M (5:15PM): yeahhhhhh sure you do** _

_**Bonnie (5:15PM): Don't make fun of my typo! I didn't mean it in a dirty way. I just meant like…hanging out and playing on your computer, or relaxing or whatever.** _

_**M (5:15PM): oh my god** _

_**M (5:15PM): I bet you want to know what goes on in my bed though ;)** _

A sudden heat spread across Bonnibel's face, and she knew that her cheeks had gone bright red. She was so glad that M couldn't see her.

_**Bonnie (5:16PM): You're such a jerk. Why am I friends with you again?** _

_**M (5:16PM): just using me for my mediocre advice?** _

_**Bonnie (5:17PM): Hmmm, maybe. That or how you're always so sweet and complimentary.** _

Bonnibel watched the little speech bubble as M typed, and she smiled to herself with that weird warmth in her chest.

What came through next shocked the warmth right out of her chest.

_**M (5:17PM): I want to meet you in person** _

Bonnie's face crumpled into a frown, and she rolled her bottom lip underneath her front teeth. Did she want to meet M? Honestly, she wasn't so certain. M was a great friend, but the whole point of their conversations was anonymity. Without that, Bonnie wasn't sure if she'd have anyone to talk to about serious things aside from Peter. Maybe Lady, at a push.

She hadn't even realised that she'd received another two texts.

_**M (5:18PM): like, in the future if you know what I mean** _

_**M (5:18PM): once we're both comfortable with it** _

_**M (5:18PM): but one day I'd like to know who you are** _

That felt slightly better. In the future. One day. Not right now, when Bonnie needed her anonymous friend.

_**Bonnie (5:20PM): Yeah, one day. As long as we're both comfortable with giving up our anonymity. I think that'd be nice. I'd be fun to give you a hug and be able to see what you look like.** _

_**M (5:20PM): what do you think I look like?** _

_**Bonnie (5:21PM): I don't know. Nothing that I can come up with seems to fit. I think that you're the kind of person who tries not to care about what other people think, especially appearance wise. And I know you have green eyes. Maybe…light hair?** _

_**M (5:21PM): interesting** _

_**Bonnie (5:21PM): I might ask Keila about your general appearance. Nothing that'll give your identity away, though. Although, she told me that you guys haven't spoken for a while.** _

_**M (5:22PM): we have different friend circles. the only reason we really talked was because she was my partner on a school project.** _

_**Bonnie (5:22PM): Yeah, her friends can be kind of intimidating. Marceline especially, from what my friends have mentioned. Although, from what I've personally encountered, she isn't as bad as people say.** _

Bonnie's face sunk into a frown when her message switched from 'delivered' to 'read' and M didn't start typing back straight away. In fact, she was even more confused when she didn't start typing back at all.

Instead of the usual warmth she felt when talking to M, something inside of her froze over until there was nothing but a dull ache in her torso, latching onto her stomach and making her feel sick. Had she said something wrong?

She waited for a few more minutes and then dejectedly placed her phone down on her nightstand. She picked up a book she'd already read a few times and flicked through the first few pages about the publishing until she found the first chapter. Settling down as comfortable as she could when she knew she was being ignored wasn't exactly the easiest thing in the world, because that odd, sickly feeling in the pit of her stomach clung to her, gnawed at her, constantly reminded her that maybe just being anonymous didn't mean she didn't have any repercussions.

And then her phone buzzed.

Bonnibel dropped her book completely and scrambled to grab it from her bedside table. She knew she looked a little desperate and was incredibly thankful for her solitude when she saw M's reply on her phone's lock screen.

_**M (5:27PM): you really think that?** _

A sigh of extreme relief came whooshing out of her lungs, and every tensed muscle in her body seemed to collectively relax. M wasn't ignoring her. Thank _god_.

Now that she thought about it, she had been rather silly. Of course M wouldn't just ignore her like that. Her friend was probably just distracted by something, homework or a television show or a friend.

_**Bonnie (5:27PM): Yeah. I don't think Marceline's that bad, if I'm being honest. Not that I'd say that to her face – she'd probably just make some sarcastic comment about how little she cares about my opinion – but still.** _

_**M (5:27PM): huh. cool.** _

_**M (5:27PM): so, what're your plans for the rest of the evening?** _

_**Bonnie (5:28PM): Dinner with my uncle. Nothing else other than that. I might start a new television show when I get back home from that, though. That'd take up some time. You?** _

_**M (5:28PM): supposed to be meeting my boyfriend in…** _

_**M (5:28PM): actually I was supposed to meet him ten minutes ago and I'm still in bed so… oops** _

Bonnie actually laughed at that, but she felt slightly… uncomfortable at the mention of a boyfriend, not that she knew why that would be. She should be happy that her friend was in a relationship. She cared about M, right?

_**Bonnie (5:29PM): Cancelled plans? That must suck.** _

_**M (5:29PM): nah I just couldn't be bothered to get out of bed really** _

_**M (5:29PM): I'm all warm and toasty and I have five The Walking Dead box sets to get through so yeah** _

_**Bonnie (5:30PM): I can see the logic behind that, to be honest. I would get into my onesie and watch something, but like I said, I have dinner with my uncle. He wants to catch up and see how I am with things.** _

_**M (5:31PM): things? are you okay?** _

If she was being honest, Bonnibel hadn't expected the sudden concern. Had she sounded upset or something? She read over her last text and tried to read into it, but the only thing she picked up on was 'things', which she'd opted for in the place of 'moving to a different continent'.

(Although, even Bonnie had to admit that 'things' sounded particularly ominous.)

_**Bonnie (5:31PM): Good things, but different things. You know what I mean? Like, there's been some rather prominent change in my life, but it's not all bad. It's kind of down to him, though, so I figured he just wants to make sure I'm okay because of that.** _

_**M (5:31PM): down to him? how?** _

Bonnibel drummed her fingers against her knee in thought, unsure of how to explain things without giving away anything too personal. No, personal things weren't what she wanted to talk about, especially the personal things that she'd put behind her.

They were in the _past_. No sense on dwelling on them and making herself upset. She'd done plenty of that before, and it was time to move on. Lock it in a safe and bury it underground.

 _Supress_.

_**Bonnie (5:32PM): I live with him. He got a new job, so naturally a lot of things have been changing around the house. He's not in as much and I kind of miss him. We're really close.** _

Bonnie squeezed her eyes shut and hoped, _prayed_ that M wouldn't ask why. That wasn't something she wanted to explain. It was something she wanted to supress. Suppression was the only way.

_**M (5:33PM): makes sense** _

_**M (5:33PM): well, take it as him trying to spend more time with you. he seems like he's making up for all of the lost time because of his new job. :)** _

She positively beamed at the message. Her friend hadn't pried, and that meant the world to her. A flood of warmth crashed through the caverns in her chest, and she typed back with a smile glued to her face.

_**Bonnie (5:34PM): Yeah, alright. On that note, I'm going to go and get myself ready for the evening. See you, M. :)** _

_**M (5:34PM): later, b :)** _

* * *

 

Marceline stretched, her eye roll an automatic reflex as she heard a loud crash in the kitchen. When nothing but silence followed, Marceline called out. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Keila called back, although her shifty tone indicated that she wasn't being entirely truthful, "but this plate isn't. Sorry, Marce."

Marceline's muscles tensed and she quickly made her way into the kitchen. Poking her head around the door, her expression dropped to an uncomfortable copy of her usual casual smirk when she noted the smashed remnants of one of her dad's plates. "Uh, it's fine. Don't worry about it."

Keila knelt down to pick up the pieces. "Should I take it out to the trash? I don't want you to get in trouble with your dad."

That last half of the sentence made Marceline's blood run cold. Her dad. Yeah, probably best if they got rid of the evidence as quickly as they could. Arguments meant that he'd be bitter with her for the rest of the week, at least, and she didn't want that to happen. Usually when her dad was being moody, she didn't have a very great day.

"Yeah, let's clean it up as quickly as we can and then hide it somewhere. I don't want to get him mad." Marceline admitted. "I feel like it's making things awkward for Marshall when we fight and I don't want to do that."

"Your dad needs to chill," Keila proposed, which was the understatement of the century. Hunson needed more than just to 'chill'. "But I like your dad. He's a dude who doesn't care what anyone else thinks and does what he wants. You know? Like that time we had teacher assessments at school and he didn't try to make his lesson different just to impress the school board."

"Yeah," Marceline distractedly agreed, "I guess so."

Keila seemed to sense that Marceline didn't like the conversational topic they were on. "Were you texting your mystery lover while you were sat at there?"

Marceline snorted and leaned back against the counter as Keila put all of the smashed pieces of plate into a plastic bag. "She's not my _lover_. She's a friend. And _no_ , I wasn't texting her. Since it's nearly eight, I'm guessing she's at dinner with her uncle."

Keila smiled to herself in that odd way she smiled whenever they ended up talking about B. Marceline knew that Keila was aware of her friend's identity – they'd fabricated a story about working together on a science project to keep Marceline's identity a secret – but it still made her feel weird that Keila knew.

"Yeah, well, whatever," Keila rolled her eyes, "You know she likes you now, anyway."

"She didn't say that she likes me." Marceline corrected her, "She said – and I _quote_ – 'I don't think Marceline's that bad, if I'm being honest'. That doesn't mean she likes me."

"Yeah, but it means she doesn't hate you. So you know that you're in the clear if she ever finds out who you are." Keila poked Marceline in the arm as she skirted past her to put the plate in the trash. "Honestly, Marce, you're so dense sometimes."

"I want to meet her," Marceline glanced down at her dormant phone, "but then at the same time, I don't. You know what I mean?"

"Not at all," Keila rested against the kitchen counter across from her. "I don't think that either of you are ready for that yet, though. She's… you'll know when you're ready for it. But come to me first if you ever plan on just telling her who you are. You have a habit of being irritatingly blunt with people at times, and you might freak her out if you do that."

"I know that. I don't want her to know who I am, but then at the same time I want to meet her and hang out with her. I don't know, she's just a really cool person and I feel like we'd have fun hanging out." Marceline huffed and looked at her phone again, but didn't make an effort to start talking to B. "You talk to her in real life. Is she any different to what I've seen over text?"

Keila hummed in thought. "Honestly, not really. She's a little bit more… chill with you. In real life she's kind of guarded, like she's got some things she doesn't want people to know."

"I can relate to that." Marceline sighed and rested her head on Keila's shoulder. "I like talking to her anonymously, though. She tells me things. Asks for advice. It's fun pretending that I'm competent enough to give other people advice."

" _You_? Giving _advice_?" Keila raised an eyebrow. "God, that sounds like a total train wreck. I'm surprised the poor girl still has a social life."

Marceline laughed, and turned to Keila with an amused grin. "She has a lot of guy troubles, apparently. There's this guy that likes her and she basically said that he's a guy that everyone would kill to date, and yet she doesn't like him."

"That's understandable," Keila responded, "Not every girl has to like him."

"Yeah, but apparently she's never had a thing for any guys before, but she described these feelings towards this girl when she was like thirteen and was really… dismissive when I suggested that she might like girls." Marceline turned to her friend with a frown. "Like, that's a valid point, right?"

Keila hummed to herself as she tried to think of a response. "Yeah. I don't know, though. She comes across pretty straight to me."

Marceline sighed. "I don't know. I'm not good at reading people, though. Maybe you're right."

Keila shrugged and nodded towards the doorway. "You're not as bad at reading people as you think, Marce. But whatever. We should play some music and mess around. Maybe we could write some new stuff for the band? Usually we make our best songs from our random jam sessions."

Marceline pushed herself from the kitchen counter with a wide smile. "You know, that's the best idea you've had pretty much all night."


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bonnie discusses M with a friend.

"You know, I find this movie hard to believe." Bonnie stated and stuffed her hand into the popcorn bowl. She pulled out a sizeable amount and rolled her eyes at the man on the screen. "She's much too good for him. Look at how pretty she is! He's just…mediocre."

"Mediocre?" Lady raised an eyebrow, an odd look in her eye. "Bonnie, that's Zac Efron. Do you not realise that he's like…every girl's dream?"

"Well, he isn't mine, apparently." Bonnie rolled her eyes as the couple on the screen kissed. _Nothing_. She felt absolutely nothing. Lady had assured her that she'd be in tears because of how adorable this movie was, and instead, Bonnie was sat shaking her head. Rom-coms really weren't her thing. "My _type_ – as Elle so graciously puts it – must be something different."

Lady squinted at her, but didn't comment on what she'd said. Maybe she'd realised that it was a perfectly reasonable explanation. "Yeah, must be. Any other news on the Marshall front? Or the _Braco_ front?"

Bonnie shook her head. "Nope. Marshall and I are in a strictly platonic relationship, and I didn't find Braco very interesting. They're both nice guys, they're just…again, not my type."

"They couldn't be more different." Lady pointed out, "Braco's like you – likes school, math, and science. All that stuff. Marshall is the complete opposite. I don't think there's many other guys different to those two to choose from."

Bonnie just shrugged. "Like I said, they're sweet guys. It's just that…I don't feel all jittery around them like Elle says I'm supposed to. I don't know, maybe I feel differently around people that I like. I mean, I _should_ like them, shouldn't I?"

Lady frowned again, that weird, squinty frown where she looked like she was trying to read Bonnie as best she could, like something was written on her forehead in really tiny letters. "Can I ask you something?"

It was Bonnie's turn to frown. "That depends. What're you asking me about?"

"Romance. Love." Bonnie relaxed at Lady's response. Nothing too invasive there, then. "Relationships."

"That's alright," Bonnie sent her a soft smile, "Ask away."

"Promise me you won't get offended." Lady ordered, delaying the question further. "I mean, it's not really something that _should_ offend you, but I don't know if you're…like, if you're okay with that kind of thing."

Bonnibel's smile twisted into a look of confusion. She really didn't follow any of that. "Lady? Just ask me. I'm kind of confused here."

Lady looked down at her feet and then back up to Bonnie, the question coming out rushed and blurted. "Are you gay?"

" _What_?" Bonnibel froze in place, her heart stopping and her blood going cold. How could Lady have assumed something like that? She was obviously straight. Right? "Of course I'm not."

"You're offended, aren't you?" Even though it was a question, it came out like a statement. Lady didn't seem very impressed by that.

Quickly, Bonnie shot that down. She wasn't homophobic in the slightest. She also wasn't _gay_ in the slightest, either. "I'm not offended at all. I'm just a little bit…confused, I guess? About how you came to that conclusion."

Lady shrugged, keeping her gaze trained carefully on a lone coaster on the coffee table. Apparently facing Bonnie was hard to do. Weird. "Well, you've never had a boyfriend before, and you haven't shown interest in boys that other girls would kill to date. You also always talk about how the woman in romantic movies is 'too pretty' for the man she's with. Like earlier."

Bonnibel frowned down at her feet. Those were all valid points. "Oh. I hadn't realised that."

"I didn't mean to…I don't know, upset you?" Lady carefully responded, "You could be bisexual? Only you can figure that kind of thing out."

Bonnie was quick to shrug her off. No, she couldn't be gay. She didn't like girls like that. She was allowed to think that a woman was pretty, and even if she _had_ felt the occasional pull towards another girl, it was just because she was jealous. Bonnie wasn't _attracted_ to other girls. She just envied them. M was wrong, and Lady was wrong.

Obviously.

"I'm not gay, Lady. Or bisexual." She finally responded and sent her friend an amused smile. "I'm straight. I just haven't met the right boy yet."

Lady sent her another one of those odd looks. "Alright. That's – yeah, like I said, only something you can define."

Bonnie nodded firmly, sending her friend the best smile she could muster. It came out weak and awkward, which was understandable as she was too busy trying to keep her heartbeat regulated.

Assuming the conversation was over, she looked back to the movie and stared at the male character again. Yes, that was what she liked. She liked his stubble and his muscular build and the way his hair was perfectly coiffed. She definitely wasn't attracted to the woman. She didn't like the way she smiled with one side of her mouth, how her hair looked ten times softer than the man's, how gorgeous her slender figure was.

No. Bonnibel Butler was definitely one hundred percent straight. Sexuality was only something that she could define for herself, and she was defining it as straight. She wasn't different to her friends. She wasn't gay.

Whipping her phone out of her pocket, she sent a quick text to M. She needed a second opinion, her independent definition be damned.

_**Bonnie (3:23PM): M, I need your help. What made you think that I might be gay?** _

_**M (3:23PM): all the stuff you said really** _

Bonnie blinked at the screen. She found it hard to believe that her friend had replied so quickly. Either way, she was a help.

(Or not. 'All of the stuff' didn't sound so reassuring.)

_**Bonnie (3:24PM): What do you mean? Like, I know I'm not gay, obviously, but I was just wondering why people might think that.** _

M's reply wasn't very reassuring, but Bonnie supposed that was what came from having an anonymous friend. They didn't get any repercussions in real life if they were completely honest with her.

_**M (3:25PM): the thing that stuck out the most was what you told me about that girl when you were younger and how you always felt nervous around her** _

_**M (3:25PM): that seemed like more than just admiration and envy to me** _

Bonnibel bit on her lip and shook her head. No, this couldn't be happening. M couldn't be right. The thought of her being even _remotely_ gay was ridiculous.

She didn't get a chance to reply.

"Who're you talking to?" Lady was back to her usual chipper self, and apparently their conversation hadn't stopped her from teasing. "Secret…someone?"

"It's not a secret _boy_ friend." Bonnie made sure to put emphasis on the 'boy' part of that. "They're just…a friend. A really, really great friend."

"From England?" Lady looked over her shoulder at her phone screen, which was blank. "What's their name? Are they our age?"

"I…don't know." Bonnie admitted, looking down at the floor. "I don't know their name. I know that I'm talking to a girl, though, and she's seventeen."

Lady looked at her like she'd just said the craziest thing in the world, which she kind of had. "You just gave your number to some random person? How did you even get their number if you don't know what they look like or-"

"I found it in a library textbook." Bonnie calmly responded. "All I know is that the first letter of her name is M, and she's a complete sweetheart."

"They could be a stalker." Lady said that so loudly that she might as well have announced it to Glassrock's entire population.

(No, scratch that. _America's_ entire population.)

"I know for a fact that she's not a stalker." Bonnie rolled her eyes. "I've been talking to her since early December. If she was a stalker, I'd probably know about it by now. It's _March_. Besides, M is my friend. I trust her."

"You trust a random person who _won't_ tell you their name?" Lady repeated, "That's it. You're going to end up murdered. It's going to be on the news – sixteen year old girl found dead in a ditch. Perpetrator – a fifty year old man whose number she found in a textbook."

"She's not a fifty year old man. I told you, she's a seventeen year old girl." Bonnie rolled her eyes _again_ just to show Lady how ridiculous she was being. "M is cool. She'd tell me her name if I asked. It's me that doesn't want to give away my identity. Having an anonymous someone to confide in is nice."

"Give me the number." Lady picked up her phone, "I'll look through my contacts and see if I can figure out who it is. I won't tell you if I have their number. This is just for my own personal reassurance that I'm not going to find out about your death on the news."

Bonnie sighed, but considering it'd get Lady off her back, reeled off M's number to her friend. Nothing came up, so her friend's identity remained a secret. She liked that.

When Lady suggested texting the number out to their friends, Bonnie quickly objected. Sending it out to that many people would probably make M stop talking to her, and Bonnie didn't want that to happen. She liked their conversations, whether they were advice-swapping sessions or pun wars.

"I'm still convinced that it's some old man who has already graduated and wants to relive his creepy ass youth through you." Lady folded her arms across her chest. "If I don't have their number, it's likely. I have most of the kids in our grade saved as a contact."

Bonnie shrugged. "Well, who _don't_ you have whose name starts with M?"

Lady's concerned expression quickly morphed into a smirk, and she snorted with laughter. "Marceline."

Bonnie laughed at that. "There's no _way_ that it's Marceline. M actually possesses emotion. I'm pretty sure that Marceline's a sociopath. I mean... there are a couple of things that could point to Marceline, but I highly doubt it." Bonnie pushed that thought out of her head. "Yeah, it's definitely not her."

"Aren't you two all friendly now?" Lady frowned at her, "Not that I'm arguing with the sociopath thing."

"We're _civil_." Bonnie corrected. "I can hold a conversation with her, but I still don't particularly like the way she can act. She's very rude and I don't tolerate that kind of thing."

"Still, being civil is better than whatever she is with everyone else." Lady pointed out. "I'm pretty sure the only people she actually likes are Keila and those other guys she hangs out with."

"I think it's mostly just Keila." Bonnie speculated, "She's never alone with those guys and I'm fairly certain she just tolerates them. Actually, it seems like it's tolerance with her _boyfriend_ , too. Aren't you supposed to love who you date?"

Lady shrugged casually and back to the television, uncaring. "Yeah, well, Ash is a jerk and Marceline's a bitch. Perfect match."

Bonnie just sighed and turned back to the boring film. She shouldn't be concerned about Marceline's relationships. It wasn't like Marceline would worry about her. Bonnie resolved to forget about it.

After another few minutes had passed, she had.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Marceline and Bonnie have a study date.

"Oh my god, no."

Keila sighed. "Come on, Marce. Just do it."

"Just do it," Marceline repeated in the best monotone she could muster. She threw an eye roll in there too, just for good measure. "You're really not selling the idea to me very well, K."

"Well, fine," Keila huffed, and her hazel eyes rolled skyward in thought. Apparently it didn't take her that long to think of an argument, as her pupils were staring through Marceline's a few seconds later. "You can prove something about yourself. That'd be fun."

"I don't have to prove anything to anyone." Marceline was quick to shoot that down. "Next argument, please."

"You might realise that she's not that bad and that you have a potential friend." Keila suggested. Naturally, Marceline responded to that one with a scoff, but before she could bite out a sarcastic remark about how unlikely that scenario was, Keila kept going. "Seriously, Marce. Bonnibel is cool. Besides, you've already agreed to be civil with her, so you might as well. You've got nothing to lose."

It didn't take Marceline that long to think of a comeback. "Yeah, other than two precious hours of my life that could be spent playing music."

"Come on. I need to give her an answer and I want it to be a happy answer." Keila held her phone up and Marceline stared at the conversation. For some reason, her eyes gravitated over to Bonnibel's contact picture, an adorable image of her smiling at the camera.

Wait… adorable? No. That was the last word she'd _ever_ use to describe Bonnibel Butler. A nuisance? Yes. Pretentious? Definitely. Adorable? No way in _hell_.

Marceline shoved that thought out of her head and scoffed again to cover up any evidence of discomfort. "I'm sure a 'happy answer' for dear Bonnibel is one where she doesn't have to endure the torture of my presence."

Keila's previously neutral expression melted into a knowing grin. "I know you, Marce. I know you don't hate her. I can tell."

Marceline's brows knitted together in a frown, before she quickly composed herself and sent a half-hearted glare Keila's way. "Shut up. Tell the princess that I'll meet her in the library after school if she's that bothered about this weird study session."

"I knew you'd cave," Keila smiled victoriously, "You like her, Marce."

"I don't like her." Marceline was quick to insist. But, when Keila's facial expression roughly translated into _stop kidding yourself, Marceline_ , she awkwardly made amends. "But I don't hate her. I don't really care."

Realising that neutrality was probably the best that Marceline would admit, Keila just nodded. "Yeah. You're neutral."

Marceline nodded to herself, as though she was trying to reassure herself of that. She was neutral. She had no feelings towards Bonnibel, whether they were feelings of like or dislike. The other girl was simply a minor irritation in her life.

Right?

Marceline was fairly certain that she didn't want to make friends with her. She'd known that from the start, and that hadn't changed. But all of the sarcastic, overly mean comments that Marceline bit out around her were kind of… tiring. And she always found herself feeling slightly odd after saying them; not in a good way, though.

Maybe just being casual acquaintances with Bonnibel wouldn't be so bad. They _were_ kind of stuck together, after all. Unless her dad suddenly had a change of heart about science partners, which was less likely than dinosaurs coming back to life and starting a totalitarian government to reign supreme.

"Alright, Bonnie says that she's cool with that," Keila was the one to pull Marceline's train of thought into the station. "So, any word from your anonymous friend as of late?"

"She's a little… stressed lately." Marceline didn't want to give away B's secrets, considering Keila knew who she was, but being elusive didn't matter, did it? "Boy troubles, I guess."

"Ah," Keila hummed in thought, but didn't bother pressing her for details, "any boy troubles of your own?"

"No," Marceline quickly shook her head, but Keila shot her that _I know you're lying_ look, and she let out a reluctant sigh, "well… honestly, kind of. I don't- I'm not happy, Keila."

"Yeah," Keila touched a hand to Marceline's arm and gave her a gentle squeeze. Marceline managed to stifle the whimper of pain it elicited. "I kind of figured. Ash is a dick, Marce. I don't know why you keep going back to him."

"I have my reasons." Marceline carefully responded. She knew that Keila wouldn't push – that was one of her friend's best qualities – but she really didn't want to think about Ash. "Lately the only person that makes me happy is B. And I can't even hug her or… I don't know, go for a walk or something. I know that's lame, but whatever. She's cool."

Rather than latching onto what she'd said, Keila clapped a hand to her breastbone in mock offence. "I don't make you happy? Fine, I guess I'll leave then. Later, bitch."

Marceline rolled her eyes, and didn't bother trying to hide her smile. Instead, she closed her fingers around Keila's wrist and pulled her back. "Come here. Of course you make me happy. You're my best friend."

"I should think so," Keila muttered to herself, but intentionally loud enough so Marceline could pick up on it. "All the things I do, and I don't even get the credit for making you happy. Nope, some anonymous girl over text does."

Marceline feigned reluctance and pulled Keila into a hug. "Look, you're already doing one better than her. You're hugging me. Hugs are equal to happiness."

"You're such a sap," Keila squeezed her back, before pulling away and leaning against the wall, "When you meet B, I'm going to warn her how much of a hugger you are."

Ignoring that last comment – Marceline knew that it was a total bluff – she glanced up at the clock on the other side of the empty corridor they were in. "I hate Thursdays. Why do I have a free period at the end of the day? It's pointless. I don't do anything during it. I just hang around with you and wait until we can leave."

"I know, it's pointless," Keila agreed with her, "but at least you have a reason to stay today; your study date with Bonnibel."

Marceline feigned a vomiting noise. "Ugh, don't call it a date. That's gross."

Keila shrugged innocently. "What? She's cute. If she wasn't so straight, I'd go for it."

From her tone, Marceline could tell that she was joking, but it still made her slightly uncomfortable. "Still, that's just weird. She's not my type at all."

"Alright, I'll punkify her. Make her look all punk rock and then stick her in a band as their vocalist. That'd make her your type." Keila teased, much to Marceline's displeasure. "Come on, Marce. I'm just fucking with you. Besides, I'm pretty sure she has eyes for that Braco guy. Didn't you see them talking at the beach party last month?"

Marceline thought back and quickly shook her head. "Nah. She didn't seem all that into him."

"Huh," Keila leaned against the wall again and stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets, "maybe she's aromantic or something."

"Maybe." Marceline murmured. She mimicked Keila's actions and shoved her hands in her pockets, an odd and unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Deciding that she'd just eaten too much for lunch earlier, Marceline put the feeling to the back of her mind.

Obviously, it was absolutely nothing.

* * *

"Hey, Bonnie."

At the sound of her name, Bonnibel looked up in surprise. She continued to pile up all of her worksheets from the previous lesson, but sent Finn a soft smile. "Hey, Finn. I'd have thought you'd already be racing home. You always seem to be the one who leaves class first, rather than last."

"Yeah, but I figured I'd ask you if you wanted a ride home," Finn offered, "I know that you get the bus usually – Phoebe told me she sits with you sometimes – but Jake drives me and Lady. There's a spare seat in the back if you want it."

She was pleasantly surprised that he'd asked. Considering she was the newest addition to the group, she'd assumed that he'd pick someone else over her. It was sweet.

"Thanks for the offer, Finn, but I'm not leaving straight away today." She politely shot him down; she didn't want him to assume that it was a permanent _no_ to all offers in the future.

"Oh, that's cool," He quickly brushed her rejection off. She expected him to head off to Jake's car, but he surprised her again by keeping the conversation going. "Extracurricular activities? I didn't know you'd joined any clubs."

Bonnie laughed. It was funny; clubs were the last thing she'd join. She had enough work to stress over. "No, I'm meeting Marceline in the library. Considering we're partners in science class, I decided I'd like to meet up regularly to study together, just so we can work on our… compatibility issues."

"Marceline?" Finn slowly repeated. "I thought you didn't like her."

"It's not like that," Bonnie hurried to explain properly, "I wouldn't meet up with her if I didn't have to, Finn."

He seemed to brighten then – probably happy that she wasn't about to start a life of delinquency as Marceline's best pal – and nodded, heading towards the classroom door. "Alright then. See you tomorrow, Bonnibel."

"Bye, Finn," She smiled until he'd left the room, and then let herself relax.

Once she'd finished packing her things away, she zipped up her pink backpack and slung it over one shoulder. Usually she liked carrying her backpack on both shoulders, but she wasn't going to be walking for long.

As she walked down the corridor, her chest felt off. Not off in a bad way – she didn't think she was coming down with some sort of illness – but just… off. It was just a weird nervousness in her chest, clamping down on her throat.

Wait… nervousness? Was she _nervous_ to meet Marceline?

She paused for a moment and tried to evaluate why that would be, but it didn't take her that long to chalk it down to past experiences. She was probably just worried that Marceline might say something out of line or uncalled for, which really wasn't that unexpected at all.

When she arrived outside of the library, she was a little stunned when Marceline wasn't waiting for her. Keila had sent her a screenshot of Marceline's timetable over Facebook, and she knew that the other girl had a free period before the end of the day, so it wasn't like she could've been held up in a class.

Bonnibel waited for a few moments and then decided she'd go inside and find a table for the two of them to work on. If Marceline didn't show up by half past three, Bonnibel would go home.

Naturally, when Bonnibel went behind the first bookshelf to head to her regular table, Marceline was already sat there was a notepad out and a pen on the desk. She looked to be writing something, but when Bonnie stepped closer, she saw that it was a rather intricate doodle of a man who looked strikingly like a lemon.

"Nice drawing." Bonnie announced her presence and collapsed into the chair opposite Marceline. "Is that anyone in particular?"

Marceline looked down at her sketch with a smirk. "Principal Citron."

Admittedly, Bonnie snickered a little when she looked back at the drawing for reference. Honestly, there wasn't that much of a difference between their principal and the lemon man. Lemon man's sword was the only contrast she could pick out.

"Funny," Bonnie eventually commented, "do you draw people like that often?"

"Only if they annoy me." Marceline admitted, sending her a smirk that made her stomach clench and release in an odd flutter. "You've made a few appearances, naturally."

Instead of reacting how she knew Marceline wanted her to, she just smiled knowingly. "Good to know I have such a positive and artistic impact on your life, Marceline."

Marceline snorted with laughter. "Don't flatter yourself, _babe_."

Normally, that wouldn't have bothered her. One of Marceline's inoffensive comebacks never usually had an impact.

But this one did.

It wasn't that she was taking any sort of implication from it. No, it was because of that last word. _Babe_. It was a term of endearment, and although Marceline was using it sarcastically, it still bothered her, and not because of the sarcasm behind it.

It bothered her because of the way it made her diaphragm flutter.

She didn't have any more time to dwell on it, though. Marceline quickly snapped her fingers in front of her eyes and brought her back to reality. "Hey, earth to nerd. Are you going to answer my question?"

"Oh- um, sorry, I didn't get that." Bonnie quickly composed herself and apologised. "Can you repeat it, please?"

"Yeah," Marceline eyed her suspiciously, "I just asked what you were wanting to study. You _did_ ask me to come here to study."

"Oh," Bonnie let out a nervous laugh, "yes, just- anything, really. Flip to a random page in your textbook and we'll go over that together."

After looking her over for a few more moments, Marceline did as she was told and Bonnibel breathed out heavily. Why was she suddenly so uncomfortable? The room's heat definitely wasn't helping; it felt like the librarian had cranked up the thermostat to at _least_ a hundred degrees.

Bonnibel tried to focus on something, _anything_ other than how she'd felt when Marceline called her 'babe'. Obviously she was just starting to like Marceline as a friend and was slightly stunned by it. Her newfound and strictly _platonic_ feelings towards Marceline had merely taken her off guard.

It wasn't the other thing.

It _definitely_ wasn't the other thing that she was so desperately trying to supress.

No. Not that. Because there were many different adjectives that Bonnie would use to describe herself, and _gay_ certainly wasn't one of them.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where it's been 800 years since I last updated

Bonnibel sipped on the mug of chamomile tea and leaned back in her desk chair. She listened attentively, her gaze occasionally flicking over to her open bedroom window. She knew that it was kind of sad that she was waiting, but if Marceline was late it’d look weird if Bonnie hadn’t noticed, and if she didn’t scold her for it.

If she was being honest, Bonnibel was actually kind of dreading this. Seeing Marceline in school was one thing, but seeing her outside of it? Another in its entirety. It was far more nerve wracking.

But the main reason that Bonnie was dreading things wasn’t because it was Marceline she was meeting; although that was a contributing factor. No, it was because of the things going on in her head. Ever since M had suggested that she might be gay, it’d started to become more and more of a problem in her life. Every time one of her female friends so much as _smiled_ at her and she thought something along the lines of ‘wow, they’re pretty’, she would scold herself. If she felt anything, she’d take a few minutes to tell herself off. And even though she didn’t particularly like Marceline, she was an attractive girl – Bonnie couldn’t deny that – which made everything a little bit more complicated.

Marceline had freaked her out enough before. She didn’t need the added trauma of her possibly not being straight.

 _No_ , Bonnie was quick to correct that, _stop it, Bonnie. You’re straight. You just haven’t met the right boy yet._ _Just because you can look at a girl and think ‘yeah, she’s pretty’ doesn’t mean you want to be in a relationship with her_.

Thankfully, before she could get into yet another argument with herself about how she _wasn’t_ attracted to girls, there was a knock on her bedroom door. Shaking her head to clear it, she spun around on her desk chair and called out. “Come in.”

Her bedroom door swung open and Marceline sauntered in as casually as ever. “Sup, nerd. How come you’re suddenly asking to hang out with me? Got a little crush on me, eh?”

Naturally, as soon as Bonnie’s head was clear, Marceline clouded it up again. Bonnibel shook her head fast enough to give herself whiplash and scrambled to deny that as quickly as she could, all while a little voice in her head taunted her. _See,_ it said _, even Marceline can tell you’re not straight. You’re just in denial_.

“I- I’m not, uh- I’m… _no_ , Marceline,” Bonnibel sighed in exasperation as she was unable to form the words and turned away from the other girl to wipe her watery eyes. She didn’t want to be gay, and she wasn’t going to be. Because she wasn’t, and she couldn’t be something she’s not.

Marceline shot her an odd look and it made Bonnie feel more alien than ever. “Chill. It was a joke.”

Bonnibel cleared her throat and tried to push it out of her head. “Yeah, okay. Just-” she tried to think of something else to talk about. Something that wouldn’t bring her back to the subject of her sexuality. “Uh, I’m not asking to hang out with you. We need to start meeting up regularly to study if we want the next project to go better than the last one. We only got a B, and I’m a straight A student. Obviously it was our extreme incompatibility that was the cause, so we need to work on that.”

“We already did,” Marceline made herself at home and flopped down on her bed, “I promised to be civil. Problem solved.”

“Problem _not_ solved.” Bonnie quickly corrected. She dropped her pen on her desk and stood up, crossing over her room to sit next to Marceline on her bed. “Problem still there. We need to stop being so… hostile. I know you don’t like me, and that’s-”

“I don’t _dislike_ you,” Marceline completely surprised her with that, and Bonnibel’s stomach twisted. She tried putting that down to excitement – she was always happy to make a new _platonic_ friend. “I don’t really… I’m just neutral. You know?”

Bonnibel smiled and glanced down at her lap. “Neutrality. Okay. I can handle neutrality. Anyway, what I wanted to cover was kind of what we did in the library last week-”

“Whoa, dude,” Marceline cut her off and jumped up; Bonnie didn’t think she’d seen her move as fast before. She watched with mild inquisition as Marceline walked across the room and towards her DVD shelf. She pulled one from the alphabetised bottom shelf and held it up. “You have _Predator_?”

“Yeah,” Bonnibel picked at a loose thread on her duvet, “that series is one of my favourites. The _Jurassic Park_ series is a close second, though. You’ve seen it?”

“Of course I have,” Marceline flipped the case over to read the back. “Can we watch it?”

Bonnibel turned that over in her head. Sure, watching a movie wouldn’t involve any talking, but the whole reason she’d invited Marceline over was to study. She didn’t think it would be a good idea to just goof off.

Apparently, Marceline could sense her incoming negative, so she did something that she’d probably never live down.

Marceline Abadeer, probably the most abrasive and antisocial student that Glassrock High School had ever had the pleasure of teaching, looked right at her and pulled the most heart-wrenching puppy dog face that Bonnie had ever seen.

Rather than laughing like she’d expected she would, Bonnie felt something pull in her chest and looked away from Marceline to avoid any horrible questions spinning around in her head.

Finally, she let out the biggest sigh she could muster and nodded. “Fine. We can watch it. But only the one movie, and _then_ we’re going to study.”

Marceline’s previously sad expression – however fake it may have been – melted into a casual grin. “Awesome.”

Bonnibel stood up and took the DVD from Marceline and walked over to her television. She slid the DVD into the player and then grabbed her remote control and sat back down on the bed, keeping a respectable distance between herself and Marceline.

Awkwardly, Bonnibel fiddled with her fingers as she waited for the pre-menu trailers and advertisements to play. She was probably the only one to find the silence uncomfortable – Marceline didn’t seem to care about anything as she played on her phone – so in an attempt to make herself feel better and stay as distracted as she could, she cleared her throat.

“Uh, so, what’s your favourite film series?” She watched as Marceline jumped in surprise and looked up at her. “You know mine. I think it’s only fair for me to get yours.”

Marceline hummed in thought. “I guess you’ve got a point. My favourite movie series is pretty hardcore, though. It’s a horror. Lots of terrifyingly graphic death scenes and murder. I don’t think you’d be able to get through five minutes, let alone three movies worth of it.”

Bonnibel raised an eyebrow. “You’d be surprised to know that I don’t mind horror, as long as it’s not too gory. Spill it, Abadeer.”

Marceline folded her arms over her chest, and with the most deadpan expression possible said, “It’s the _High School Musical_ series. Very scary.”

Unable to contain herself, Bonnibel burst out laughing. That was the last thing she’d been expecting. She managed to stop her laughter for long enough to say, “Seriously, Marceline.”

“Seriously. It’s probably the most hardcore trilogy around.” After a short pause, Marceline laughed too. “Yeah, no. My actual favourite series is the _Scream_ movies. The first time I watched it I got all of the killers correct. Aside from the third movie, but in my defence, that one is so dumb.”

“The third movie always seems to be the worst when it comes to films.” Bonnie pointed out. “Like… take _Jurassic Park III_ for example. That movie is so bad that I can never make it the whole way through. I can’t handle it when they make it too cheesy.”

“Same, dude,” Marceline nodded in agreement, “a lot of the time, horror movies can fall into the trap of being laughable rather than actually scary. Most movies that are supposed to be scary turn into a sort of… dark comedy. Keila and I like going to see the latest scary movie in the theatres and seeing if it’s actually good or not.”

Bonnibel raised an eyebrow. “Have any of them actually scared you?”

“One,” Marceline admitted. Bonnibel was kind of surprised that she’d actually owned up to being frightened; she’d assumed that Marceline would be the kind of person to always act like she’d found a movie more funny than scary for toughness points or something. “The sequel came out last year at the end of summer and I refused to go see it. It was called _Sinister_. No way am I ever watching that again.”

Bonnie laughed, thinking back to last summer. Before she’d moved, she’d met up with Bubba for a movie day – they did that quite a lot on weekends – and they’d managed to get halfway through that before turning it off. “Yeah, I’ve seen parts of that. I couldn’t handle it either.”

“Keila thought it was fine,” Marceline shook her head, “I told her she was crazy. Pretty sure she went to see the sequel with Guy because I wouldn’t go.”

Bonnibel took a few moments to reply as she pressed the ‘play’ button on her DVD remote. “My best friend and I used to have a lot of film days when I still lived in England. He was the one who first tempted me to watch some scary movies.”

“I’d pay to see you screaming your butt off at your first scary movie,” Marceline snorted with laughter, “that’d be hilarious.”

“ _Predator_ was my first scary movie, actually. That’s why I like the series so much.” Bonnie explained. She looked down at her phone with a wistful smile. “I miss him. My friend, I mean. He was like my brother, almost, and it sucked having to leave him. I didn’t want to leave England at all.”

Marceline seemed taken aback by her sudden bad mood. “Uh… yeah. Well, you lived there for a long time. Makes sense that you’d miss it.”

“Yeah, but sometimes I just think that-” she quickly cut herself off. Marceline wasn’t the person she should talk to about something like this. M, on the other hand… “Sorry. I don’t want to bug you with this.”

Marceline just shrugged. “Hey, if you need to vent, I won’t tell anyone what you said.”

Bonnibel stared at her for a few moments, unsure as to if she should continue. It didn’t take her long to decide on _no_ , she shouldn’t. Like she’d decided before, Marceline wasn’t the person she should talk to about it. She decided that she’d text M later and ask for her advice; usually she was great at comforting her.

“No, that’s okay,” Bonnie flashed Marceline an awkward smile and turned back to look at the television screen, “Thanks for offering, though. Maybe you’re not as mean as I initially thought you were.”

Marceline almost smiled. “No problem. And you make that sound like a bad thing. I can turn on the violence and anger if you want.”

“What, are you like the Hulk now or something?” Bonnibel raised an amused eyebrow. “The question is whether you use your powers for good or evil.”

“You like _Marvel_?” Marceline blinked at her with wide eyes, as though that was the most shocking thing she’d ever said. “But- you’re _you_.”

“Should I be offended by that?” Bonnibel laughed. “To answer your question, no, I don’t like superheroes, but I know that the Hulk turns all green and Hulky when he gets mad. So logically, the comparison made sense. I spend enough time with Finn and Jake and your brother to have basic knowledge about a few superheroes.”

Marceline’s surprise seemed to have subsided, but she still looked a little stunned. “Huh. I’ll have to bring some of my Marvel movies over one day and educate you properly.”

It was Bonnie’s turn to be shocked. Marceline was actually offering to spend more time with her? Why was she all of a sudden acting a lot softer, too?

Trying to mask her shock, she nodded. “Uh, yeah. Sure. One day when we’re not studying.”

“God, what is it with you and studying?” Marceline asked. “You’re like, obsessed with school. Why is that?”

“Because school is important and I love learning new things. Besides, it was kind of all I had at one point…” Bonnie awkwardly trailed off and looked down at her feet. “It’s just interesting. And I love the way I feel when I get straight As on my report at the end of each term.”

There were other reasons, but Bonnie wasn’t about to admit those to Marceline. No way.

Either way, Marceline didn’t push her. Instead, she just shrugged and murmured an ‘okay’, before settling down to watch the film.

Bonnibel was surprised by how comfortable she felt. Honestly, she’d assumed that there’d be some sort of uncomfortable silence or awkwardness between herself and Marceline – they were barely even acquaintances, let alone friends –  but Bonnibel found herself actually relaxed; more relaxed than she’d been in a long time.

She really wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

As the movie played, she cast the occasional glance over at Marceline. Every time she did, she would scold herself immediately – she should be paying attention to the movie and not the pretty girl next to her.

Wait, pretty?

Bonnie squeezed her eyes shut and let out a deep breath. She was fine. There was nothing wrong with her. She was normal and she definitely didn’t like girls.

“Are you okay?”

Bonnie’s eyes snapped open and she turned to look at Marceline. Quickly, she shook her head in an attempt to sway her friend’s – _no_ , acquaintances’ – perspective. “I’m fine, yeah. Perfectly normal.”

Marceline frowned. “Really? Because you’ve gone all pale and you look like you’re about to puke. Do you have any ibuprofen around here? It’d probably be a good idea for you to take one.”

“No, I’m alright, seriously.” Bonnibel assured, her speech becoming more and more slurred as she stopped paying attention to that and started focusing on how fast her heart was beating. “I’m- uh, fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” Marceline shifted to sit up and frowned down at her. Under her scrutinising gaze, Bonnie found herself more and more panicked. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Bonnie shook her head and shrugged off her hoodie; the room was suddenly a lot hotter than it was a few seconds ago. “Nothing. Just- um, be quiet for a moment, please? I need to think of something to uh- I- distractions, I need a distraction.”

Marceline sunk back down to where she was sat before and nodded to the TV screen. “I forgot to mention my other favourite movie series. _Star Wars_. How could I forget _Star Wars_?”

Bonnibel tried to control her breathing and nodded, unsure as to why Marceline was suddenly making conversation. “Yeah, I like that too. The new one is really cool.”

“Definitely. I bet you were one of those people who swooned over Poe Dameron, right?” Marceline laughed to herself. “I was more bothered about Rey and Finn, to be honest.”

“I liked Rey. She was my favourite.” Bonnie carefully responded. Thinking about that a little bit more, it made her worry. And worrying wasn’t good when she was on the brink of a panic attack. “Poe was cool though.”

Marceline hummed in thought. “I bet you were one of the first people to see it, considering you’re a science nerd. It took me a while to convince Keila to go with me. She kept complaining about how she wouldn’t understand it because she’d never seen the others. Needless to say, I fixed that.”

“Kylo Ren was annoying.” Bonnie weakly contributed. “I didn’t like his character. It felt like a cheap version of Vader.”

Marceline nodded in agreement. “Definitely. All of the straight white males who went to see it and were complaining about representation – Kylo is their representation. And he’s a whiny asshole who throws tantrums all the time, so it’s accurate representation as well. They should be thankful.”

Bonnie was surprised that her heart had slowed down as quickly as it had. “Aren’t you dating a straight white male?”

“Yeah, and he’s a whiny asshole who throws tantrums all the time.” Marceline deadpanned, and turned to her with an unimpressed expression. “You okay now?”

Bonnie flushed red and ducked down to stop Marceline from seeing. “Yes. Thanks.”

­“No worries.” Marceline let out a sigh and glanced over at the clock. “But I should probably head off. I told Keila I’d meet her at four and I need to go home to grab my bass and stuff, so…”

Bonnibel blinked up at the clock. It was 3:15. She was unsure as to why she felt disappointed at the notion of Marceline leaving. She didn’t care about that, because they weren’t friends, merely two people who had agreed to be civil.

But, Bonnie couldn’t voice her disappointment without Marceline picking up on it and questioning her about it. So, she resolved to act natural.

“What? You can’t leave. You came here to study and we’ve done absolutely _nothing_.” Bonnibel folded her arms across her chest. “Tell Keila that you’ll meet her at five. I want to get at least a little bit of studying done before you go.”

Marceline rolled her eyes. “Come on, dude. Chill. We’ll study at school or whatever. I have your timetable and I know when our shared free periods are.” At Bonnie’s stern look, Marceline continued. “It’s a band practice, and they can’t have a band practice without their bassist and singer.”

“You- uh, you can sing?” Bonnie was taken aback for a moment, but shook her head before Marceline could respond. “That doesn’t matter. We need to get some work done. Otherwise there was no point in you coming over.”

“Actually,” Marceline stood up and stretched, “there was a point. Didn’t you say that the whole point of us meeting up to study was to help us communicate better or whatever? For a good grade on the next project? Because honestly, we communicated more today than we did last Thursday.”

Bonnibel had to admit that she had a point. “I mean- I _guess_ , but… I still wanted to study.”

“Yeah, I get it, you’re the biggest nerd on the planet.” Marceline rolled her eyes and jabbed her thumb in the direction of the door. “I need to go. We’ll study on Monday or something.”

“I- okay.” Bonnie let out a sigh, but she hadn’t expected her studying excuse to work. Not that she cared that it didn’t, because obviously they weren’t friends. Right? “See you at school.”

Marceline’s reply was swift and dismissive as she walked out of the door. “Yeah, later.”

As she heard her footsteps fade, Bonnibel looked back to the television where the end credits of the movie were playing, genuinely surprised by how spending time with Marceline hadn’t been as bad as expected.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bonnie and Marceline get ice cream.

Bonnibel dropped her sunglasses over her eyes and leaned back on her beach towel. She couldn't believe how warm it was; she was already starting to tan slightly, and considering it was late March, that was amazing. Usually it was still cold in England.

(Usually it was still cold in England in  _July_ , but whatever.)

She picked up her phone from where it was sat next to her on the towel and switched songs. Additionally, she used that as an excuse to check for any texts from M, but there weren't any. All that she had in her messages were things she'd already opened – the text from Lady inviting her to the beach, the text from Elle  _demanding_  she'd go to the beach and the texts from Phoebe telling her that it was okay if she didn't want to go to the beach. She checked Facebook out of habit, but found nothing aside from a notification from Bubba, asking her to video chat soon, and the already opened message from Marceline telling her that she'd set off to come to her house from the other week.

She dropped her phone again and stretched out on her towel, pulling one earbud from her ear so she could listen to the conversation around her. Nothing too interesting was going on – Finn and Jake were discussing something named  _Deadpool_ , and Elle was ranting about Keila.

Wait,  _Keila_? Usually, Marceline was the focus of Elle's gossip and ridiculous rumours. But now it was suddenly Keila who was the subject of interest.

Bonnie quickly interrupted before Fionna could add something to whatever they were speculating. "What did Keila do?"

"I overheard her telling that boy she's friends with – Guy, I think he's called – that she's some sort of lesbian." Elle paused for emphasis, but it wasn't very long before she was talking again. "And I'm like, so confused, because she's had boyfriends before, so it doesn't make any sense."

Bonnibel froze in place and prayed that her initial shock hadn't been too obvious. Her heart was pounding so quickly that she worried its movement would be visible through her shirt and her muscles clenched in panic. She let out a shaky breath and tried to push the thoughts from her mind – of course, the  _one_  time they'd not been bothering her, they had to pop up somewhere.

She put on the best false smile she could and shrugged. "She told me she's pansexual. It means she doesn't care about gender, basically. I think that's what she said, anyway."

"That's a thing?" Phoebe wove her fingers through Finn's, and even in the state she was in, Bonnie managed a small laugh at how red he went. "Huh. Well, I guess that's just another thing our health and sex education classes missed."

Elle just shrugged. "Isn't that just being bi, though? There's hardly a difference."

"Keila would probably be able to explain it better than me," Bonnie was sure to tread carefully; she didn't want to blurt out anything that had been going on in her head lately, "but I think it's basically like the gender of a person doesn't matter to you."

Lady looked her over for a moment and Bonnibel rubbed at her thighs through the material of her dress in nervous habit. "Well, that's cool. Can we talk about something else now, though? Maybe about how Bonnie hasn't called Braco since the beach party."

Bonnibel had been hoping that her lack of contact with Braco wouldn't be brought up, but of  _course_ , Lady decided to voice the topic while Elle was there. Because  _that_  would end well, obviously. The only logical reasoning Bonnie could think of was that she'd noticed her discomfort on the topic of sexualities and had decided to change the subject.

(If that was it, then it wasn't a very good subject change.)

Elle all but screeched at this revelation. " _What_? Didn't you like him? Do you not like  _anyone_? Are you some sort of Mormon?"

Bonnie shook her head. "It wasn't that I didn't like him, I just-"

"Then what's the  _problem_?" Elle folded her arms across her chest and sent Bonnie a disapproving stare. "Come on, I went out of my way to find a guy as nerdy as you, and that wasn't easy. And I'm sure he liked you too."

"I didn't really feel like…" Bonnie paused in thought.  _Like he was my type_  was the initial thing that popped into her head.  _Because my type might be girls_.

She shook her head and let out a sigh. She wasn't going to think about that anymore. It wasn't going to bother her anymore; she was strong and she could push it down. If dating Braco would make things easier, then maybe she'd do it.

"Didn't feel like what?" Fionna pulled Bonnie from her thoughts. "You didn't like him romantically?"

"I mean… no, not really." Bonnie sighed. She knew that she should've liked him. She knew that he was basically the perfect match for her, and yet she felt nothing but neutrality towards him. "I guess I just don't like people who are too similar to me?"

Lady sent her that weird look again and Bonnie swallowed the nervous lump that had grown in her throat. "I guess that could be the reason. Opposites attract and all that."

"Uh," Bonnie hedged, "yes, I guess so."

"You and Marshall were opposites and that didn't work." Phoebe pointed out the obvious and Bonnibel cringed. That really wasn't what she'd wanted to hear.

"I'd just moved." Bonnie quickly used that as an excuse. "It was like- I was in a whole new place and I really wasn't ready for that kind of thing. When he asked me to the dance, I'd just assumed that it was as friends, you know? If he'd have clarified, I wouldn't have said yes."

"Ah," Fionna nodded, "so it was too soon. If he'd waited, do you think you'd have gone for it?"

"I don't know." Bonnie was growing desperate to get the focus of the conversation off herself. She cast a glance down at her phone and faked a smile. "I have a Facebook message from Bubba and we haven't spoken that much because of time zones and we're both overrun with schoolwork, so I should probably answer."

Without waiting for her friends' green light, she picked up her phone and unlocked it, pretending to answer the non-existent text. Then, she flicked onto her messages and typed out a frantic text to a different recipient.

_**Bonnie (2:14PM): I really need your help. I'm so… I guess, confused is the only way I can describe it. Ever since you mentioned the possibility that I might not be straight it's like I can't stop thinking about it? Every single boy I've tried to like, that I should like, I just feel nothing and I don't get it because I don't want to be gay and it's not like there's something wrong with being gay I just don't want to be seen as different and I don't want to deal with the possible consequences if it turns out I am and I'm so scared, M.** _

_**Bonnie (2:14PM): And I'm really sorry for just barging into your life and dropping all of my problems on you. You can just ignore me if you feel like it's putting any kind of strain on you. That's the last thing I want to do.** _

She let out a shaky sigh and dropped her phone next to her on the towel. Her phone was set to vibrate, so if she received a response quickly she'd be aware of it.

If she was being honest with herself, she was kind of  _scared_  when she thought about the things M might respond with. For all she knew, she could get something that told her to go away and stop pestering her, or she could get a lengthy essay about how her problems were ridiculous and that M couldn't care less.

Because everyone leaves eventually. Especially if there's something glaringly different about you.

She sighed again, slower this time in an attempt to calm herself down and release the tension in her chest. It didn't work very well.

It wasn't until she picked up on Elle's murmuring that she was pulled firmly back into the conversation and her surroundings.

"What the hell is  _she_  doing here?" Elle's tone was snide and judgemental, and Bonnie didn't like it one bit. "I didn't invite her. I can't  _believe_  him."

"Sup, losers?" Marshall dropped a towel on the sand next to Jake and leaned across the older boy to give Finn a fist bump. "I'm not staying for long-" he craned his neck to the right to address his companion, "-just hang around wherever, okay? I'll text you when I'm done here."

Marceline sighed and nodded in confirmation, pulling her phone from her pocket. She blinked down at the screen in confusion, but Bonnie didn't pay that any mind. She was too busy awaiting M's response. "Uh… sure. I'll be around."

She walked away from them a few paces, but Bonnie didn't bother to watch after her. Instead, she just stared at her phone screen in anticipation.

_**M (2:19PM): just because you don't like certain boys, doesn't mean you don't like boys in general. everyone has certain qualities that they're attracted to and you're no exception to that rule. only you can figure this kind of thing out, and although I do think that you seem attracted to females in some ways from what I've seen, that doesn't mean you're gay. bisexuality is a thing. and even if you do turn out to like girls, it isn't a bad thing. girls are pretty awesome. I can also promise you 100% that you're not bothering me and you never will bother me. I care about you. :)** _

Bonnibel breathed out an audible sigh of relief. M wasn't angry and her response was perfectly rational.  _Just because you don't like certain boys doesn't mean you don't like boys in general._  Bonnie gracefully ignored the second half of M's reply about bisexuality – Bonnie really didn't think that fit her – and decided that she'd listen to her friend and push any doubts from her mind.

It was logical. It made the most sense.

_**Bonnie (2:21PM): Thank you. You really help me a lot, you know. :)** _

Then, she tucked her phone back into her purse and allowed herself a small smile. She was fine. Everything was perfectly fine.

She leaned back on her towel again and decided to sunbathe for the rest of the afternoon. Yes, that sounded like a wonderful plan.

Maybe she'd have gone through with her plan if she hadn't felt someone nudge her.

Bonnie sat up in surprise at the touch and glanced up at Marceline in confusion. Aware that her friends were staring at her, she awkwardly waved in greeting. "Uh… hi. Any reason you poked me?"

Marceline shrugged. "I was going to get ice cream and I realised that I had a ten dollar bill rather than a five."

"So… you're asking me to switch your ten for two fives? Because I don't have any money on me aside from the two dollars my uncle gave me for my bus home, should I need it." Bonnie looked around at her friends. "I could ask if my friends could-"

Marceline cut her off with an eye roll. "You really can't take a hint, can you? Do you want to get some ice cream with me? I'm bored and have to hang around, and I could have worse company."

Bonnibel blinked in surprise. "You want me to get ice cream with you? I'd have thought that you'd want to go by yourself. Aren't you all for that stoic 'too cool to have friends' act you put on?"

She heard Lady snort in laughter, and she realised that the last part – however sarcastic it may have been – might have come off as condescending or insulting, which she really hadn't intended. She hoped Marceline would take it positively.

"Fine. A simple  _no_  would've been nice, but whatever." Marceline didn't look fazed as she spun on her heels and began walking away from her.

Jake looked at her with his mouth hanging open. " _Whoa_ , Bonnie, you have guts to stand up to Marceline the-"

Bonnie didn't stay long enough to hear what Jake was planning on likening Marceline to. No, she jumped up and quickly chased Marceline down the beach, completely forgetting her purse and phone as she caught up to the other girl.

"Hey," She grabbed onto Marceline's arm, the other girl's wince going unnoticed. "I was trying to make a joke. Sure, I'll have some ice cream with you."

Marceline pulled her arm from Bonnie's grip. "The offer has since been revoked. You don't need to pity me and give me your charity company. I don't care."

"Why are you like this?" Bonnie sighed in exasperation. "I'm not going to put up with you if you start with your self-deprecating nonsense. I'm not pitying you or giving you  _charity_. I'm spending time with you because I want to."

Marceline frowned at her. "Why?"

Bonnie shrugged. "Because it wasn't so bad last time we spent time together. And you're offering free ice cream, so…"

Marceline rolled her eyes, but Bonnie caught the small flash of a smile that crossed her face. "Of course you're only in it for the free ice cream. What flavour do you want?"

Bonnie paused in front of the ice cream store and frowned at the little menu propped up outside. "Chocolate or vanilla. I don't mind."

Marceline held the door open for her and nodded over to a free booth in the corner. "You go sit. I'll order."

Bonnibel nodded and sank down in one of the seats, tapping on the table in an attempt to keep herself occupied. Usually she'd play on her phone, but she'd completely forgotten it when she'd run after Marceline.

(She really wanted to talk to M, too. Being phoneless sucked.)

She waited until Marceline came back over with two ice creams – one strawberry, and the other an odd chocolate and vanilla combination.

"You bought me chocolate  _and_  vanilla?" Bonnie jabbed at the ice cream with her spoon. "Maybe you're not some terrifying hell demon like everyone says you are. At least you're nice to the girls you buy ice cream for."

" _Girls_  suggests that I do this a lot, which is wildly inaccurate." Marceline ate a spoonful of her ice cream before continuing. "Not many people will come within fifty feet of me, let alone let me lure them into an ice cream shop. After you've eaten that, we're going to the cliff to perform the satanic ritual. You're the sacrifice."

Bonnie laughed. "So this is just you trying to fatten me up for Satan?"

"Basically yes," Marceline looked up from her ice cream and sent Bonnibel a wonderfully toothy grin. "I was promised eternal riches for in return for a sacrifice of a sixteen year old girl with strawberry blonde hair and a knack for science. Luckily for me, you fit the description perfectly. Satan is wonderfully specific, isn't he?"

Bonnie smiled at her. "Seriously, though. What is this really about? You could've easily called Keila to come and meet you."

"Well, I couldn't, because she's working until five." Marceline quickly shot that down. "I don't know. I didn't want to wander around by myself."

"I thought wandering around by yourself was your thing." Bonnibel commented, waiting patiently for the real answer. "You've done it before. It wouldn't have been too hard for you to have gone for a walk until Marshall texted you."

Marceline rolled her eyes. "Maybe I wanted to repay you."

For some reason, Bonnie didn't feel like that was the real answer. "Repay me for what?"

"You're annoying, but you got dad off my back about doing my work in science class or whatever," Marceline didn't meet Bonnie's gaze, "so thanks. He can be kind of a dick when it comes to schoolwork and I guess with you he thinks I'm going to do it."

"He probably nags you about it because he cares about your education. All parents do it." Bonnie assured her. She didn't reply to Marceline's thanks for a reason; she knew that the other girl would become hostile if she mentioned it too much.

Marceline didn't look like she believed her. "Do yours?"

Bonnibel felt that familiar sting around her eyes and bit down on her lip. "Uncle Peter can be pushy at times, but he knows that I usually have everything done. Depends on how much I procrastinate."

Marceline scanned her over and eventually nodded. "Procrastination is a vicious thing. I do it a lot, I will admit."

Bonnie beamed; Marceline hadn't pushed her. She appreciated that a lot. "I can do it on occasion. It honestly depends on what other things I want to do. If I'm desperate to conduct my own experiments rather than do work I've been set to do, usually I procrastinate my school work through personal work."

"At least you're still being productive." Marceline pointed out to her. "I just sit on my ass and watch Netflix for eight hours until I realise it's three in the morning and I still haven't got my work done. Then the next day I'm grumpy because I only had three hours sleep."

Bonnie smirked. "I take it three hours is your average per night, then?"

Marceline rolled her eyes and barked out a sardonic laugh. "Very funny. I'm not  _always_  grumpy."

"Yes you are." Bonnie swiftly countered that. "Literally every time I see you, you're being moody in some way. Do certain people only get bad moods or something? I'd assume I'm one of them."

"You're not getting a bad mood right now." Marceline picked at her fingernails. "Keep going and you might get one."

Bonnie scoffed. "Yeah, because I'm  _so_  scared of that. You'd probably just complain about how your ice cream isn't cold enough and then mope around until we leave."

"Shut up and eat your stupid ice cream."

After a few moments of silence, Bonnie glanced up to see Marceline smiling to herself in a wonderfully adorable way. It was enough to make her stomach flutter, but it wasn't long before the light feeling was replaced by dread and stone cold fear.

She rapidly assured herself that it was nothing and looked back to Marceline, completely relaxed when it didn't happen again. Obviously what she'd felt was just a little fluke. Nothing more than a fluke.

But then her stomach flipped again when Marceline looked up at her and flashed her a smile.

Oh no. That really didn't sit well with her.


End file.
